


Da Capo: The Second Movement

by mistysinkat, sallyamongpoison



Series: Da Capo: The Full Score [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anxiety, But mostly fluff, Engagement, Family Issues, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Past Drug Addiction, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, because they deserve it, unrepentant fun fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 75,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which time rolls on and life continues for Dorian and Cullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midwinter [1 of 2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian and Cullen have their first Midwinter celebration.

They’d been doing this for eight months. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. They’d been doing this for close to two years now. A few months as friends, a few months as boyfriends, a few months apart, and again as something... well, it wasn’t quite ‘boyfriends’ anymore, not really. It didn’t feel as juvenile as that. It wasn’t first dates and awkward sex or trying to feel out each other’s likes and dislikes. It was battle scars that had hurt at the time, still hurt when they thought about it too hard, but a willingness to move forward instead of just existing on the same plane and hoping things propelled them ahead. It was a nebulous understanding of a relationship. It was something, Dorian hoped it was at least, very solid. More solid than anything in his life.

Midwinter had never been Dorian’s preferred holiday. In his youth it had meant waking up early to sit at lunch with his grandparents and open more functional than fun gifts. Books. Useful, and usually interesting, but never fun. His parents, too, would use that time to list off and compare his achievements against his failures... with the failures list often twice as long as the other. He’d have to sit through it and smile and nod like it was amusing. It wasn’t. Neither was having to leave his school friends, his _actual_ friends, or... well, Rilienus back in those times. Spending family time pretending to be someone and something he wasn’t soured the holiday.

Being stuck _there_ through it that year had completely obliterated his desire to celebrate since.

So, eight months into this newly revitalized relationship with Cullen he realized he wanted to do... something. Something that was more than meet Sera at the bar and them both drink until Dagna had to take them home to sleep it off. Dorian had been thinking of the last eight months: hard won and sometimes awkward, sometimes downright difficult, but always worth it. They’d made the choice, a conversation spoken in the dark and curled up together in bed like the other would drift away if they let go, to be there for each other through it all. To talk. To be the sometimes necessary bad guy. It was a difficult thing to be, but it had been what they’d both needed. And it was working.

Cullen was very much the cook in their relationship, though Dorian could manage to make something nice here and there. That was his plan tonight. It wasn’t the traditional roast and million side dishes, but it wasn’t Midwinter proper yet, and Dorian had a feeling Mia would provide that meal when it came. This was for them, though. Just them. So he’d made a mix of his Tevinter favorites: spicy curry with ram, coconut rice that was slightly sweeter than usual, and some of Cullen’s beloved Fereldan fare: thick and hearty potatoes, a small tenderloin crusted with garlic and herbs. It was enough to feed them both for a few days, anyway, and they could pick and choose tonight with what they wanted. Dorian wanted it to be special. They never seemed to do anything ‘ordinary’ anyway, and tonight wasn’t meant to be ordinary in the least.

He’d only just finished putting everything on warmers until Cullen arrived, and changed. This wasn’t a suit and tie kind of night. Not really. Dorian opted for a black jumper over a pair of ironed chinos, mostly for comfort as well as to not look completely sloppy, but under the jumper was that same holey and soft maroon shirt of Cullen’s. Dorian rather liked having it close to him when he was slightly nervous.

Which he was.

\----

The past eight months had been… well, they'd been both wonderful and challenging. Cullen had emerged from treatment clean and armed with coping exercises and a sponsor to reach out to when things started going numb again. He'd learned to face things rather than run. Most importantly, he'd squared with the fact that he would _never_ be the same man he'd been before this mess started that rainy evening years ago. It was a hard lesson, but when he really dug, he found that he had been romanticising his old life, painting it as perfect and placing the bar far too high for anyone to reach. And that had destroyed him in the end.

No, he'd never be the same Cullen who taught school and went through life unscarred, but that was ok. His therapist, a caring young man who insisted he just call him Cole, helped him see it was an opportunity to remake himself into something new. Something better than he thought possible.

So he'd held that thought close to his heart, letting go of everything from that old life. Everything except the one thing he couldn't. _Dorian._ The man had welcomed him back, but it was almost like starting over, at least for Cullen. He had to find his place again, avoid falling into the old habit of withholding his thoughts and expecting the man to magically make it better. He had to learn how to love without expecting. Expecting just that love to heal him. He had to learn how to love without giving himself up or using it to absolve him of any responsibility for his own actions.

It had been a challenge, but one that had been so worth it. They had been dysfunctional before, Cullen saw that now, but they'd shifted since his return. What they had now was… healthy. Fulfilling. There were hard times, but they fought through them talking and, yes, sometimes actually fighting. But even that was good. Gone were the voices of doubt, telling him to run for his life when things went even the slightest bit sour.

And now he found himself nervously getting ready for dinner at Dorian's. Midwinter dinner.  Their first together, despite the fact that they'd known each other for two years. They'd just met that first Midwinter season and the last one… Cullen had been in treatment a week by then.

So, he wanted this first real holiday together to be good. Except it had already started a tad on the shaky side. He had everything ready to go, but for the life of him, he couldn't find his Maker-damned _keys._

“Mia!” he yelled at his sister from the doorway, “Have you seen my keys?”

“They're not in the dish?” she called back from upstairs.

“Obviously,” he grumped, “They might be at Dorian's. I'm out… see you later.”

“Have fuuuuuuun,” she sang down at him, “And stop worrying. He'll love it.”

_We'll see._

Luckily, the door was unlocked when he finally got to Dorian's. “I'm here,” he called as he shucked off his shoes and set his guitar case down next to the couch. “... wait… am I in the wrong apartment? It smells amazing in here.” He grinned broadly as he walked into the kitchen.

\----

“Feeling funny tonight, are we?” Dorian asked from where he was standing with the fridge door open. One hand had already closed around the neck of a bottle of white, and Dorian smiled as he moved away and let the door shut on its own. He set the bottle down on the counter and wiped off his hands, smile on his face, before coming to stop in front of Cullen in the kitchen.

He reached out his hands, tangled them in the hem of Cullen’s shirt, and pulled him in close for a kiss, “I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.”

\----

Cullen let that kiss linger for a bit, enjoying the feeling of Dorian's hands twisted into his shirt and the way his mustache tickled. Even after everything, Dorian's kisses still made him melt. Well, maybe it was _because_ of everything they'd been through together that they still had him going weak in the knees. Either way, he loved those kisses, every single one of them.

“Ah, about that,” he sighed as he leaned back a bit, “I spent 20 minutes looking for my keys. You haven't seen them around have you?”

\----

Dorian blinked like he was thinking about it, then realization dawned, “Yes, actually,” he answered before he leaned up to kiss those beautiful, scarred lips again quickly. He was smiling, happy warmth radiating outward for how nervous, yes, but how excited Dorian was for all this. “I found them buried under the magazines on the coffee table,” he went on, “they’re on the hook by the door.”

He was practically buzzing with nervous excitement and Dorian pulled Cullen back toward the kitchen, “I thought it was a bit strange you’d left them,” he teased, “must be that old age setting in, yes?”

\----

“Must be,” he agreed and kissed the tip of Dorian's nose before digging in a drawer for a bottle opener for that wine. “Finally, my mind is catching up with my body.”

He laughed as he twisted the corkscrew in. He'd need a little of the courage that came from a bottle for what he'd planned later. Dorian's gift. It had seemed perfect when he thought of it, but Cullen always had a knack for pushing things too far. He hoped that wouldn't be the case tonight. Mia was convinced it was a good idea when he'd told her, but there was still a slight little shake to his hands.

“But this really does smell amazing,” Cullen went on, “I can't wait.” Dorian cooking for him was… well, enough to make his heart pound with more than just nerves.

\----

He smiled then and leaned on the counter as he watched Cullen open the wine, “Well, I took some leaves from your book,” Dorian offered, “and we’re having a bit of pick and choose fusion.” His chin rested on his hand and two fingers tapped at the mole under his eye. Right now he was feeling rather proud of himself. “So I thought I’d make a favorite of yours,” he went on, “though I’m sure Mia’s or your mother’s would blow mine right out of the water, but it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?”

\----

“It is indeed, though if it tastes like it smells, you may have dinner duty more often.” Cullen flashed Dorian a lopsided grin as he poured their glasses. He turned to face the man, leaning his hip into the counter, and passed one of the glasses over to him. “Do you need any help, though? I feel like I should be doing something…”

\----

Dorian shook his head, “It’s all done,” and took the glass before he grinned back up at the other man. He’d been working steadily all afternoon so they wouldn’t have to wait for too long. Mostly, it had been to give his hands something to do, his brain as well, so he wouldn’t sit there and worry whether or not he was making the right choice. Or perhaps pushing too hard too fast. Eight months was a long time, two _years_ was a long time, but it wasn’t exactly an easy eight months. This was a big thing, tonight was, and it was the first time in his life that Dorian was electing to make the first move. “We can eat whenever,” he offered, “I’ll even let you peek and see what we’re having.”

\----

“Just a peek? What a tease,” Cullen grinned with a wink. He took a sip from his wine glass and set it back on the counter. One of his hands smoothed down Dorian's arm, over the soft fabric of his sweater, to his hand where Cullen linked their fingers together. He smiled as he felt Dorian’s rings clink against the one ring he himself now wore - the simple silver band on his thumb that Dorian had given him from his own hand when Cullen had been saying goodbye. Back then, he'd thought what they had was over. He'd broken, done some truly terrible things, and he wouldn't have blamed Dorian for taking the opportunity to just walk away.

But he hadn't. He'd given Cullen a ring to remember him by and a request - _come find me_. And he had, in his own fashion, and it was... well, it was heartbreaking at first. But from the heartbreak rose a promise. To _try._ To make it work, even as Cullen thought it was failing. And here they were, nearly a year later, standing in this warm kitchen full of the smells of both Tevinter and Ferelden, laughing and still making it work. He felt… blessed, and that was an odd feeling to swallow, but he was learning to have the grace to accept that, too, and appreciate the good in life without waiting in fear for it to fail.

And Dorian was very, very good.

“Thank you for this, really,” he continued and his smile shifted from cheeky to soft in a breath, “I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me. Like this. It's… it means a lot.”

\----

“I think we deserve it,” he agreed and squeezed the hand wrapped in his own. Even now, after so long, Dorian still liked to tease Cullen by calling them ‘paws’. He straightened and leaned over to kiss Cullen’s cheek. It was indeed a mingling of two households, a mix of comforting and comfortable things, in the way that Dorian had always hoped their lives would mirror. It was getting there. Slowly. Slowly was good, though. Slowly was _healthy_.

He pulled Cullen toward the stove then, and moved into the other man’s space so he was nestled in the perfectly Dorian-sized spot at Cullen’s side. In the two years they’d been doing this, he’d never been much of one to comment on it, but he’d always liked how they seemed to fit together. The puzzle piece metaphor was overdone, but they always managed to arrange themselves so they were perfectly placed. That gentle rearrangement was something no one else had ever done for him. “Now,” he began as he lifted the lid off the pot with the curry in it, “food or presents first?”

Maker help him, but he was too excited and nervous to sit on the surprises for long.

\----

He hadn't even thought of the possibility of jumping right to the gifts. Cullen's heart rate picked back up as he thought of what he'd prepared for Dorian, worried that it was too predictable or too cliché or too much for where they were now. He remembered once upon a time telling Dorian those three words that had dominated his thoughts - I love you - but since they'd begun again, he'd held back, letting their relationship grow as it would. It didn't change the fact that he loved the man next to him deeply, but it did take the pressure off, oddly enough, and let them _be_ without any expectations. What he had planned would perhaps add that pressure back to the mix. He thought they were ready, he desperately wanted them to be ready, but he needed to at least finish that glass of wine before he'd feel loose enough to present Dorian with his gift. He turned his head to kiss Dorian's temple. “It looks amazing. I'd hate to let it get cold,” he replied, “I'll consider dinner my first present.”

\----

That was good. Food might give him some strength. “Well,” he prompted and leaned into Cullen quickly before he moved away to grab an oven mitt, “can you grab out one of the wooden cutting boards, please?” Dorian pulled open the oven and was instantly met by the smell of garlic and herb and the roasted meat, which he pulled out so they could carve it up. “I hope this stands up to what you’re used to,” he teased. It made his mouth water, anyway.

In these few months they’d been doing more that was intimate, personal so they could really get to know each other, and Dorian always took on board whenever Cullen would tell him about his family life. Whether that was with his parents, or the occasional story about Ella, Dorian loved hearing those things, and he loved doing something here and there that spoke to those personal things he talked about. Even if it was just cooking something or a comment here and there that he was paying attention, he wanted the other man to know he _cared_. He did. He more than cared. Dorian loved Cullen more than he’d ever loved anyone else, and though they’d been sort of moving around the word since they’d started this back up he wanted to be sure Cullen knew it in all the things he chose to do.

Including tonight.

\----

“Maker, a roast, too?” Cullen breathed, truly impressed, “You've been busy today!” He reached down to get out the cutting board and held it so Dorian could put the tenderloin  on it before setting the whole thing on the counter. He'd let it rest for a bit before carving, just long enough to turn his attention back to Dorian. He wrapped his arms around him, pressing his chest to the man's back as Dorian gave the curry one last stir. Scarred lips pressed light kisses against his neck. “Please, tell me what I've done to deserve this so I can keep doing it.”

\----

Dorian paused for a moment before he turned in Cullen’s arms so he could face the other man, “You’re here,” he told him honestly before he leaned up for a kiss, “and we’re okay. I wanted to celebrate that.”

\----

Cullen's arms wrapped themselves more completely around Dorian as he lost himself a little in the sensation of warmth and smells of good food. For a moment, he was a kid again, back where he belonged. Back home. That's what Dorian did for him, made him feel like by his side was the place he should be. The man had _chosen_ him, had stuck by him through the worst, and he'd become so much more than a _boyfriend_. He was his _best_ friend, lover, confidante, and support all in one. And now that Cullen had been working to heal himself, he was confident enough to think he was all those things for Dorian, too. That made it better, to release that feeling that he was a taker, selfish, and realize that he gave Dorian things, too.

“We _are_ ok,” he murmured, raising a hand to let his thumb softly stroke Dorian's cheek, “And I can't think of anything better to celebrate.”

\----

That made him smile, and Dorian turned to press a kiss into Cullen’s palm. “I like celebrating that more than general holidays, anyway,” he pointed out. More than anything, he liked the idea of celebrating that they were moving forward. Actually moving forward. Celebrating that was just as important as anything else and infinitely more fun.

He took a breath and studied Cullen’s face for a long moment, “So we should toast to moving forward,” Dorian offered, “when we toast. Better that than generic holiday cheer.”

\----

_Moving forward_. Cullen liked that, the idea of keeping his eyes on the horizon, only looking back to learn from where he'd been - where _they'd_ been - not to wallow in what he should have done or to get lost in some fantasy of who he was supposed to be. The reality was that he was Cullen Rutherford, a recovering addict, a musician, a brother, a son, a good man, a human being prone to making mistakes like everyone, and in love with Dorian Pavus. The reality was that he _was_ who he was supposed be… and he'd move forward as that man, preferably with Dorian in step beside him.

Cullen picked up his glass. “I think you just did,” he laughed, “unless you had some eloquent speech laid out… in which case, lay it on me. Either way, I'll drink to it - to _us_ … Gladly.”

\----

“Gladly indeed,” he agreed and picked up his glass for a quick sip. Dorian’s nerves were still a bit on overdrive, which didn’t really make him want to eat. He honestly had no idea how he was even going to present it, only that he _wanted_ to, and the prospect of picking at a meal made him feel entirely full already. Ah well. Something, he hoped, would be better than nothing.

One hand smoothed over Cullen’s back as he stood there with his wine for a moment, then Dorian smiled, “Did you want to eat in here or in the living room?” he asked, “In here might be easier to serve, I think.” He smiled, grey eyes bright and warm, and caught Cullen’s free hand to kiss the back of it. As always his gaze lowered to study the simple silver band around Cullen’s thumb. Dorian had thought about it a lot... then. He’d wondered if Cullen kept it, if he twisted it around like Dorian often did with his own jewelry when he couldn’t fidget normally, and if it actually helped remind him of their promise.

Apparently it had. He’d never loved a piece of jewelry so much as one that he didn’t even wear himself.

\----

“Here is good,” Cullen answered, flushing while Dorian kissed his hand. “I love a good kitchen. Mom always said it was the heart of any home.” His tone grew a little sheepish as he continued, “...which, you know, I believe.”

He coughed and straightened, “Besides, we can graze a bit. Here, I'll slice this,” he said, waving a hand at the tenderloin resting on the counter, “if you'll serve up that curry?”

\----

“Sure,” Dorian nodded and went to grab down some plates, “are you having a bit of both then, I take it?” He was grinning then. Having never had a family meal _made_ by family, Dorian never really knew or understood that sort of primal feeling of feeding people he cared for something good. Not until recently, anyway. There was some sort of deep-seeded pleasure he got whenever he saw Cullen’s eyes light up at whatever it was they had. Even if it was just a plate of cheese and crackers after a long day or something like that, Dorian loved the feeling of making someone else happy, more than he ever thought he would.

He put a couple scoops of the sweet coconut rice on each plate and spooned some of the curry on top. It smelled like the best part of home. Suddenly, he wished that Felix could be there. And perhaps Gereon and Livia. They would have scoffed at him cooking it himself, sure, but it would have been nice. But just the two of them was... well, preferable.

“We’ll be eating all this for days, I think,” he chuckled, “not that I mind.”

\----

“Me, either,” Cullen nodded. He actually had a few days off for the holidays. Garrett had welcomed him back, so he stayed busy at the studio and also the volunteer work at the center he'd gotten into, but the days leading up to Midwinter and the turn of the year were his. They hadn't planned anything specifically, but it sounded like Dorian wanted to keep him around for a while, and that suited Cullen just fine. He loved when they could spend that much time together, just being themselves, whether they chose to go out or just fall together on the couch… or into bed. It had become comfortable, after they learned how to be together again, and Cullen couldn’t help but feel a little colder on the nights he had to go back to Mia’s.

Mia’s house, though warm and familiar, wasn't home.

Cullen smiled at the prospect of spending the holidays with Dorian more fully than he'd expected as he sliced. This was good. He'd almost forgotten how nervous he was over what he was going to give Dorian later. Almost.

He snuck a quick bite - it just smelled too good not to - and his face lit up for how tasty it was. “Maker, Dorian - this is delicious! Here, have a bite,” he said as he held a small piece out for Dorian.

\----

The sight of Cullen holding out something for him to try always made Dorian smirk. He wondered if maybe the other man hadn’t quite learned yet, but there was a part of him that had a feeling that Cullen knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Dorian leaned in and took the bite of roast from Cullen’s fingers, his tongue lapping just a bit over his fingertips, and he smiled around them. The meat had turned out really good, if he said so himself, but tasting it on Cullen’s fingers was better. “Not too bad, hm?” he asked with a light laugh as he moved away, “if only you saw the food blog I got the recipe off of. I swear it was three pages long talking about the woman’s kids before it even got to how to roast the damn thing.”

Dorian moved to set the plates of curry down on the counter in front of the two barstools that had become their usual place to eat anymore. This was comfortable. Nice. Suddenly he was feeling a lot less concerned about everything. He was hungry, happy, and ready to just enjoy a night that was supposed to be for celebrating. That was all it was. Besides, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t reasonably sure what Cullen’s answer was going to be. He wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t, after all.

\----

_Oh, Maker._

He honestly hadn't _intended_ to have Dorian literally eating from his hand; he'd genuinely just been excited for the man to sample the resounding success of his work. But feeling lips on his fingertips, even briefly… well, he wasn't going to complain. Not one little bit.

Cullen aimed a lopsided grin Dorian's way before adding some of the roast to their plates. “Oh, sudden modesty,” Cullen teased as he sat next to Dorian, “ _Not too bad_ , indeed. You know it's good.” He laughed and pushed against Dorian playfully.

And it was good. All of it. Even the curry, which Cullen had admittedly eyeballed with suspicion. He expected, however, that what made it all so amazing was less in the cooking and more what the meal itself was. It was Dorian's care for him, for _them_ , on a plate. It was something he'd made just for them because this was their time. Cullen suddenly wished they could have more of this sort of thing, maybe not dinners that took hours together, but _time._

“I'm glad you persevered through that blog, then,” he said between bites, “this is… it's good. Thank you… I might need to steal your recipe, though.”

\----

“If you want to make this every now and then, I wouldn’t complain,” he teased back as he got settled and tucked into the curry first. Dorian had held back a bit on the heat, if only so their mouths wouldn’t be burning all night, but it was still nicely warming. As they ate, Dorian rested his free hand on Cullen’s thigh and smiled over at him. Arguably, this was his favorite thing. Yes, the sex was great and everything else, but Dorian liked these moments that were so easy. He’d always been able to do the physical thing, but sitting down and having a meal with someone and talking to them about everything and nothing wasn’t anything he’d ever done with a lover. Cullen was the first. Dorian liked _talking_ with him.

He refilled their glasses after a while and playfully clinked his against Cullen’s, “This may be the best Midwinter I’ve ever had,” he admitted, “in fact, I’m sure of it. Amazing, isn’t it?”

\----

_Amazing._

Cullen swallowed the bite he was working on and took a sip of his wine as he mulled that word over. _Amazing._

It was, this whole thing. It was amazing that they'd even met in the first place. Amazing that Dorian hadn't washed his hands of the stranger breaking down on his couch in the very beginning. Amazing that they'd stuck together when things got really bad. Amazing that he could look into those perfect grey eyes and know that they'd hurt each other during those dark days in ways that cut deep, but that they'd stumbled through it and grown together.

It was amazing that, after everything, he could look at this bright beautiful man beside him and know for a fact that his heart belonged to him.

“It is,” Cullen agreed as he wrapped his hand around the one resting on his thigh, “We've… we've been through so much. I just… It means so much to just be here. With you. Midwinter or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins the Da Capo epilogue content. We started this in between arcs of the main storyline when things started to get too heavy and we needed a break from ourselves. It was written well before we concluded the main storyline, so if there are any inconsistencies not caught in editing, that would be why.
> 
> This one was started around Christmas time, so naturally, we wanted to give them a little celebration all their own. Instead of picking a specific holiday, though, we went with the more general "Midwinter." 
> 
> We just really wanted to give our boys a little happiness. <3


	2. Midwinter [2 of 2]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which gifts are given and a change is at hand.

Something about that statement softened the playfulness in Dorian’s aura. He set down his wine glass, turned a bit more to face Cullen, and cupped that handsome face with his now free hand. Maker help him, but his heart fluttered when Cullen spoke like that. Cullen was the first person in his life to ever care for him for just... being himself, flaws and all. Cullen was also the first person Dorian had ever really cared for completely, flaws and all. With anyone else, he’d realized a while ago, even one of their problems would have been far too much to deal with. Let alone all of them. Perhaps that’s what happened when you met that right person, though Dorian refused to let himself get so syrupy over it.

“Hey,” he prompted after a moment, “I wouldn’t have gone through all that for anyone else.” Dorian caught Cullen’s gaze then and smiled a little, “Everything was worth it, alright? Is worth it. And it’s only going to get better.”

\----

Dorian's words warmed Cullen to his core - _it's only going to get better._ Cullen was only 8 months out of treatment and under no illusion that he was permanently cured or that bad shit would never happen again. He knew it was naive to think things would always be easy from now on, even if it seemed like maybe the universe owed them a break. But would it get better? Yes. It was already better, just for the fact that neither of them ever had to be alone through the bad times when they reared their heads. They'd promised to be there for one another, and Cullen trusted in that promise.

“It's better together,” he agreed, smiling as he leaned in to kiss Dorian's full lips, losing himself for just a bit in that slow warmth.

\----

He hummed into that kiss and tangled his fingers in Cullen’s slightly grown out curls. Of course, Dorian missed that shoulder length hair, how it framed Cullen’s face in such an angelic way, but it was getting long enough now that he could get his hands into it again. Dorian loved to kiss him like this, all warmth without that deeper desperation, and he did it as often as he could. They were, however, still in the middle of dinner. “Easy, boy,” he teased once he broke the kiss and let his tongue flick playfully over that scar, “too much of that and we’ll be having all this cold later.”

The hand in Cullen’s hair swept through it again, brushed it away from that handsome face, before he turned back to the food, “Speaking of together,” he prompted after a moment, which made his stomach clench just a little, “I was wondering how we were doing Midwinter proper? You said something last week about there being something at your sister’s. I’d assume gifts will be involved, right? You’ll have to help me out with what to get everyone.”

\----

Cullen took a slow breath to let the effects of that kiss wear off before his mind engaged again. This was going to be his first Midwinter with his family since the one that had followed Ella’s death. That had been… an awful time, and Cullen found _he_ was nervous to face the entirety of the Rutherford clan again. He could only imagine how Dorian felt.

“Of course, I'll help, but I have to say again… I want you to meet my family, but you don't have to do it all at once,” Cullen said gently. He paused then, chewing his lower lip. “I mean, there are so many of them now. _I'm_ antsy just thinking about it.”

\----

“Maybe we should start with a lunch with a few at a time, then,” Dorian offered, “here, maybe? If they’re amenable? Or out somewhere.” The thought of just showing up and being met by the _entire_ clan did make Dorian nervous. His family was six people around the table at most, so more than that just seemed completely insane. “Start slow?”

\----

There was no way Cullen was going to get out of Midwinter dinner. He lived at Mia’s, after all, and he did want to see Bran and Rosalie. They'd moved out and on, so they'd be travelling in to stay with Mia that whole week, spouses and kids and all. Mia was their anchor, and he appreciated everything she did, but the thought of all of them all at once in the same house… it was draining. But he could spare Dorian some of that. Maybe..  maybe while his siblings were in town, Mia would help him set up smaller things for them to get acquainted, or, in Cullen's case, reacquainted. He hadn't seen them in, what, 6 years now? 7?

He'd  learned not to run in therapy, but he'd also learned how to recognize when a situation could set him off. This wasn't running away, not really, this was taking baby steps forward.

“I think that would be wise,” he began, “It's been at least 6 years since I've seen Bran and Rosalie. Maker,” he breathed as a realization struck him, “Bran’s son… Ella and I used to babysit him… he was just this tiny little thing, all smiles. He's got to be 13 now.” A little spike of sadness worked its way through him at that thought. That little boy was grown, a stranger. He'd been gone too long. He shook his head to rid himself of that sadness. It had no place here. “I can't avoid the whole clan. They're staying at Mia’s for the week, but there's no reason you have to jump in the deep end.”

\----

“Everyone’s staying at Mia’s?” Dorian asked with one eyebrow raised, “do I want to even know the logistics of that?” He shook his head and patted Cullen’s hand, “You know you’re welcome to stay here if it gets to be too much, in any case. That many people in one house, let alone one with only two bathrooms, is... I can’t even imagine it.” That, and he knew Cullen would probably want some space to breathe. All that family in one place with the feeling like they had to talk and get to know each other again would be a lot of pressure. Then again, there was a part of Dorian hoping that it wouldn’t really have to be a case of swapping back and forth anymore, but... that was for later.

He smiled again and looked over at their mostly empty plates. Dorian was done, full from nerves and having picked at the curry for most of the afternoon to taste it, and he was more than ready to maybe sit on the couch and chat. “Come on,” he prompted as he grabbed his wine, “I saw you brought your guitar. I hope this means you’ll play a bit for me later.”

\----

“Maker, thank you. I do believe the logistics include Uncle Cullen sleeping on the foldaway in the den so Bran and Mandy have a room,” he snorted, “I'd appreciate a few nights to… not have to do that. If I never have to sleep in someone else's living room on a lumpy futon again, it'll be too soon.” He kissed Dorian's cheek as he stood. “What would I do without you?”

He walked with Dorian to the living room, thinking on the comment about his guitar. “I, er, wasn't sure how long I'd be here, so I brought it… In case the studio called me in.” They wouldn't, but Dorian didn't need to know that right now. “So I don't have to go halfway to Honnleath and back to get it.” Mia lived between the city and Honnleath. Since there wasn't a rail line that far out, it really would have been a pain to have to go back, so the excuse seemed valid.

Cullen spent a great deal in cab fares these days going back and forth to work or Dorian's, but he didn't mind it. Like many things in his life now, it was worth the extra work to keep a job he loved and a man he loved more.

“But I could do with a little practice at some point. We got the music in for the next artist when break is over.”

\----

Dorian snorted a bit, “Uncle Cullen,” he chuckled, “I admit I might laugh the first few times I hear that.” Something about that seemed so undeniably sweet. Maker, it almost made Dorian’s teeth hurt. “But you can stay as long as you like,” Dorian offered, “you know that.”

As they settled on the couch, Dorian couldn’t help but think on the two small boxes, each wrapped delicately with just some sparkly ribbon, that were sitting on his dresser. He was starting to get antsy now, even though they’d only just sat down post-dinner. It was just... Dorian was too excited. “So, I may have broken our little ‘one present only’ rule,” he admitted, “but I only technically _bought_ one thing. Does that count?”

\----

“Dorian…” Cullen groused, but his eyes were smiling. He didn't _actually_ believe Dorian would stick to that rule, but had hoped it would help the man exercise a little shopping restraint. It looked like it worked if he only bought one thing.

Curiosity was quickly overcoming Cullen's nerves. Despite his many protestations otherwise, Dorian was a thoughtful man, observant in ways you wouldn't expect based on the flirty but somehow distant face he put on. Cullen had peeled those layers back, slowly, to get to know who Dorian really was. He was still getting to know him, truth be told, and Dorian still surprised him, but that was ok. That was part of this.

Cullen wondered what he was in store for; how Dorian would surprise him tonight.

“I'll forgive you, I suppose,” he kept his tone light, but he was dying to know, “Strictly speaking, mine’s in a few parts, too, so….” he grinned and shrugged.

\----

“So are we doing part one of each, then?” he asked before he scooted a bit to the edge of the couch cushion, “or are we going to sit here and pretend like we’re not excited?” Because he couldn’t. Dorian knew he couldn’t. Both gifts were... he was excited. Too excited. He was proud of the gift he’d bought, and even more excited for the one he’d merely planned. Maker, he thought it was _cute_ , of all things. Hopefully Cullen would agree.

\----

“What, we aren't going to act like we're too cool and adult for presents?” Cullen said, trying to keep a straight face... but failing miserably. A wide grin broke out on his face, despite the nerves. Maker help him, he hadn't been this excited about Midwinter gifts since… well, a good long time. “Fine, fine, I can't lie. I'm excited. Let's do this,” he laughed, “Though mine all go together so it really _is_ like one gift. Who's first?”

\----

“I can go first,” Dorian agreed and got to his feet. He leaned over to kiss that halo of blond curls, which only made him smile. The nerves were still there, but gift number one would at least... light the way. That was good.

He went to get both boxes, though Dorian tucked the smaller one into his pocket. The ribbon would be slightly rumpled, but that was fine. In his hand was a slightly larger velvet box, a black and gold ribbon wrapped neatly around it, and he held it out in front of him as he exited the room. Dorian’s heart was pounding, throbbing in his chest, but he was grinning and set the small box down on Cullen’s lap, “Happy Midwinter,” he prompted and leaned over to kiss Cullen’s cheek, “you’ll have to forgive me for being sentimental with this one, but... it was the best idea I could come up with.”

\----

Cullen raised an eyebrow as he picked up the box, shaking it a bit next to his ear like he was a kid on Midwinter morning. “Forgive you for being sentimental?” he snorted. Cullen rather liked it when Dorian showed that side of him - loved it, really. Those little glimpses into Dorian’s _sentimental_ heart were like little gifts in and of themselves.

Cullen slid the ribbon off the box carefully, setting it aside to keep… because Cullen was, at his heart, _unapologetically_ sentimental. He took a little breath before opening the box and peeking inside. He recognized the little triangle lying on the satin interior of the box immediately, he should since he had enough of them scattered around Mia’s house and tucked into his guitar case. It was a pick, but not just any pick - it was made to last, metal with a brushed silver finish. He grinned before plucking it from the box, “Dorian, thank y…” he started as he turned it over in his fingers and saw that it was engraved with ‘No. 3’ on the other side. “Number 3,” he said out loud, face scrunched in thought as he tried to find the meaning. For his part, Dorian remained silent, grey eyes trained on him as he tried to work the meaning out.

“Number 3,” he repeated. It was a sentimental gift by Dorian’s own admission, but for the life of him he couldn’t quite grasp the meaning behind it.

\----

There was a part of him that felt a bit of a stab that Cullen didn’t remember, truth be told. That said, Dorian wasn’t the type to leave clues and blink with the expectation that Cullen automatically know his mind. They were dating, not psychically linked. And Cullen had been through a lot in the last year. Remembering that much put a lot of things in perspective. Were it not the same one he took twice a day, every day, Dorian probably wouldn’t remember either.

“Hint,” Dorian offered, “it’s where I bought you coffee the first time.” Hopefully that would be enough. If he had to explain more than _that_ , maybe he’d have cause to be a little irritated. “And where we met.”

\----

Where they met. _The train station?_ Cullen cast his memories back to the first time he saw Dorian. He remembered thinking at the time that he was just another one of the hipster business crowd, but then he'd dropped change into Cullen’s case almost every day, and then one day he'd brought Cullen a simple cup of coffee. That's where all this had really begun. That one act of kindness in a cold, gray train station.

It was a bittersweet memory, more sweet than bitter, but what did the number 3 have to do with…

“Oh,” Cullen breathed, eyes widening with dawning realization. “Oh. That was platform 3, wasn't it? I… never paid much attention to the platforms I got off at. I only thought of that one as _yours._ The best one of the day.” He paused, feeling his throat thicken with rising emotion. This… this was special. He lost nearly every pick he ever owned - it's why he had so many - but this one… he'd keep this one close. Always. “Dorian, it's.. Maker, it's _perfect_. Thank you.” He smiled at the man, face lit with joy, though his eyes were a bit wet. He couldn't find the proper words to express how he felt, what it meant to him that Dorian would give him something like this, so he just leaned over to kiss him. “I love it.”

\----

He smiled for that and kissed Cullen back as he ran a hand along the other man’s arm. So long as Cullen liked it. Maybe it had been a little too on the nose, too literal with the number since it wasn’t something Cullen thought about, but... Maker, he’d tried. And that wet redness around the eyes eased some of the worry he had. “I hoped you would,” Dorian offered softly before he lifted a hand to ruffle that mop of curls, “I was a bit worried…” Now he was a bit worried his other gesture would go down quite like that same lead balloon. Shit.

\----

“You shouldn't have been. It's… I'm never letting this pick out of my sight,” he squeezed Dorian's hand, “Truly, I can't tell you how much this means.” He sniffed then as he rubbed an eye and laughed. “I _like_ sentimental Dorian.”

His thoughts turned then to his own gift. It was also… sentimental, but at the same time, it was realistic. He wanted it to reflect their journey without sugarcoating it or painting it as perfect. Their time together before Cullen went into treatment had been anything but perfect. Theirs wasn’t the cliche ‘they meet and fall in love and everything is better the end’ kind of love story. Their story had been battles in the dark and fear and personal demons. It had been misunderstanding and mistakes, dependency and fixation. But still, somehow, rising above all that to realize they _were_ good for one another; that they could help each other heal the scars they’d left on one another. Cullen thought that made them stronger, better. They’d gone through the fire together and lived to tell the tale.

It was strange. Before he went to rehab for treatment and therapy, he was desperate to keep Dorian, however he could. He'd believed he needed the man to be complete, to survive. He’d thought he had to be something he wasn’t to have a chance at being _worthy_ of Dorian, that he had to be the man he was before it all fell down. In the end, he crumbled under that pressure, even when things had seemed fine. But now… now he knew that he was strong enough to survive on his own, without Dorian.

_But he didn’t want to._

And that’s what his present was about. He wanted to tell Dorian, _I’m a whole person now, more or less. I know that I could make it alone, but I don’t want to be without you. Ever. We are, both of us, better together._

He just hoped Dorian understood the message when Cullen gave him his gift. He was starting to think that maybe he should have just written all that in a card so as to be 100% transparent.

“Ready for yours now… or did you want two turns?” he asked, and was proud that his voice didn’t shake, despite how his nerves were electrified.

\----

Immediately, his mind went to the small box in his pocket that was pressing against his hip bone. Out of nowhere it started to feel a bit like a ticking bomb, only instead of an explosion it would be Cullen just staring at him and thinking him stupid for even trying to make it...well, something else. Of course Dorian would still ask him, of course he would, but had he needed to put the fucking key in a box and try to make it something so juvenile?

_Be an adult and just ask him, Pavus. Maker, how old are you?_

“Why don’t you go first?” he asked. Dorian was aware he was blushing now, though he smiled through it. “I’m always excited to see what you come up with,” he went on. He was trying very hard not to let the fact the pick had been a bit of a bomb ruin the rest of the night. This was a celebration, and working himself into a lather about a bad gift wasn’t going to make it better.

\----

Cullen took a deep breath and leaned over to open his guitar case. Inside was a thin box, precisely wrapped in red paper with a golden ribbon winding around it. He took it out and held it in his hands for a moment, saying one final prayer that Dorian would understand. Things like this could get translated different ways, after all.

“I… well, mine is just as sentimental, so you're not alone.” He handed the box over with a little smile.

\----

Despite his earlier embarrassment, Dorian was excited about Cullen’s gift. He was still smiling as he carefully pulled off the ribbon and tore through the paper so he could open the box, and both eyebrows rose for the sight of the contents. Dorian knew Cullen’s writing with hardly a glance, though he’d never seen sheet music written by him. The man was more than a bit secretive about his personal notebooks with music in, which Dorian only hardly ever snooped at, and those never looked like this. It was so very _Cullen,_ and he smiled as he looked it over. The title, however, wasn’t one Dorian recognized and that made his heart pound in his chest. Had he forgotten? Maker, had he not noticed? Was this a song he should have known? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you write sheet music,” he commented as he looked up to meet amber eyes, “it’s beautiful.” And it was, it really was.

Next was a flash drive, one that looked not unlike the two or three that floated around his desk at work and Dorian cocked an eyebrow. He was suddenly full of questions and wonders of what could be on it. Pictures? Music? Maker, he hoped so. Now that Cullen had a real job Dorian didn’t get to hear him play on the platform and he missed it. Having something of his to listen to on the way to and from work, or even just at home, would have been amazing. “And is this where I need to plug it in to find out what’s on it, or am I to guess?” he teased before he looked back down at the music again, “this is great. I’ll have the music framed, I think.”

\----

Those words braced Cullen a bit, though he could still feel his palms go a little sweaty and his throat dry up. He reached back down into his case and pulled his guitar out. The pick he'd wedged between the strings before he left Mia’s was one of his usual dime-a-dozen celluloid numbers. He pulled it free, thought for a moment, and tossed it back into the case. Metal picks could be hell on strings, but if he only used it when it mattered, it would be ok. And if it didn't matter now, when would it? He fished the pick Dorian had gotten him from the box, liking the weight and feel of it in his fingers and strummed an open chord. The sound was brighter, as he knew it would be. He nodded. Good. That would work well for what he had planned.

“I, ah… I should explain. That sheet music… it's something I wrote thinking about us. I can't really wrap music though, so I just thought you'd like… you know, a physical copy.” Maker, he was stumbling over his words and turning the ring he wore round and round his thumb as he spoke. _Calm down._

“And the little usb drive, that has a recording of it on there, along with several other songs I like. All those are covers.” As he explained, he realized he had, in essence, just given Dorian a _mixtape **.**_

_What am I, 14? Ah, well, it's done now._

“Garrett was kind enough to let me use the studio for it… but I'd like to play it for you… if that's ok?”

\----

“Please, twist my arm a bit harder,” Dorian teased with a grin. It made his heart flutter and his stomach do flips. Cullen’s music, something he could listen to whenever he wanted, and something the man had _written_ for him. For _them_. He was on the scarier side of thirty now and never once, with anyone he’d known, had someone done or made anything like that for him. Ever.

His thumb ran over the flash drive and he smiled, “I’d love to hear it.” Listening to Cullen play was one of his greatest pleasures, after all. He’d missed it while they’d been apart. Now for it to be something so... private, intimate even, Dorian couldn’t help the way his skin tingled and he could feel himself sweating. It was like all his nerves were on fire.

\----

A long, slow exhale, and Cullen strummed that open chord again. It sounded like the fifth string was a little off, so he stuck the pick between his lips to free his hands so he could tune it. He wanted the execution of the song to be… well, perfect. He’d only played specifically for Dorian twice in the time they’d been together. The first time had been after he’d broken down completely and was just overwhelmed by emotion. It had been a bit too much too fast then, at least that’s how Cullen remembered it, and he’d not done it again out of remembered embarrassment. Until, of course, he did. When he was out of treatment, he’d just shown up to Dorian’s station and waited for the man to get on his usual train. He played then, too, and they’d left together for coffee and a bit of conversation.

Neither of those times had been something he’d written though, something he’d intentionally penned _for_ them, and he was a bundle of nerves as he finished tuning.

“Sorry about that,” he offered Dorian a sheepish smile before focusing on his hands. He didn’t know if he could do the crooning eye contact thing, not now, but if he looked at his hands, he could make it through this.

The tune was simple, really, and the backing guitar had an almost bell-like quality, thanks to the pick. The words, however, had a bittersweet feeling to them, and Cullen found that he liked the juxtaposition. It was a love song that recognized that love was work. It was a love song that didn’t say the words out loud, but Cullen hoped Dorian could hear them all the same.

_I'll grow when you grow_

_Let me loosen up the blindfold_

_I'll fly when you cry_

_Lift us out of this landslide_

 

_Wherever you go_

_Whenever we part_

_I'll keep on healing all the scars_

_That we've collected from the start_

_I'd rather this than live without you_

_For every wish upon a star_

_That goes unanswered in the dark_

_There is a dream, I've dreamt about you_

_And from afar, I lie awake_

_Close my eyes to find I wouldn't be the same_

 

_I'll shine when you shine_

_Painted pictures on my mind_

_Sun sets on this ocean_

_Never once on my devotion_

_However you are_

_Or far that you fall_

 

_I'll keep on healing all the scars_

_That we've collected from the start_

_I'd rather this than live without you_

_For every wish upon a star_

_That goes unanswered in the dark_

_There is a dream, I've dreamt about you_

_And from afar, I lie awake_

_Close my eyes to find I'd never be the same_

_Without you, without you_

Cullen kept his eyes on his hands the entire time he sang. At first, he just wanted to get it out, but as the song went on, he could feel himself getting lost in the music and his eyes closed. There was just… so much there between them, he got caught up in the emotion.

As the last note faded, he came back. Amber eyes opened and tentatively searched Dorian’s face for his reaction.

\----

The last time Cullen had sat on the couch and actually played _for_ him Dorian hadn’t known what to do. He’d been unsure of how to make his face look at the time, save for surprised and a little spooked at the raw outpouring of emotion that came with it. Now? He curled up a bit with one of the pillows that sat at the corners tucked into his lap. It was comfortable, despite the excitement dorian felt humming between them. He was torn between just letting it wash over him and listening hard for the lyrics. That said, he had this to listen to whenever he wanted. So he just closed his eyes and let himself fall into it.

He was smiling, and when Cullen finished Dorian couldn’t help but blink back a few tears of his own that had suddenly sprang up at the corners of his eyes. Still, months and years later, Dorian wasn’t sure of what to say. There weren’t really any words, despite his good vocabulary, and when Cullen looked up at him he leaned over and kissed those scarred lips. One hand lifted to cup a slightly scruffy cheek and Dorian just smiled again.

His chest clenched, a catch at his heart, and Dorian nuzzled his face in. “I love you, you know that?” he asked softly. It was just a breath between them. He’d always liked being in Cullen’s space, and Dorian liked saying those words in that space even though it had been a _long_ time since they had.

\----

He'd done it. He'd given Dorian his gift - his _song_ \- and Dorian was smiling, bright-eyed, and kissing him, making him melt in the way only Dorian could. And then he said those three words, and Cullen felt them hit and wash over him like a wave. He was untethered for a heartbeat, floating on that wave, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply to stay in the moment. Dorian had heard it or felt it somehow, then, the message behind the music. Cullen's chest expanded with warmth as he felt happy tears burning behind his eyes. His voice was low, husky with emotion as he replied, “I do. And, Maker, I love you, too.” He'd said it before, of course. It was genuine then, but desperate, colored by his… illness. This? This felt solid. Real. Right. He pressed their foreheads together, more than happy to enjoy the moment. Together.

\----

Dorian chuckled a little and tunneled his fingers in that soft hair as they stayed like that for a while. It was easy to do. Certainly, the first thing he’d do in the morning would be to put all of Cullen’s music on his phone to listen to as well as on his computer. There wasn’t a gift much better than that, after all. He just pet those waves-turning-curls now for a long while, smile still on his face, and Dorian sighed happily. This was what contentment was supposed to feel like, he was sure.

“I love it,” he murmured after a bit, “and I am most certainly getting the music framed. I think it should go in our bedroom, what do you say?”

\----

“Mmmm,” Cullen murmured a wordless agreement. His mind was still fuzzy from so much happiness flooding in all at once. But framing his music? He liked that. It meant Dorian thought it significant enough to hang on his wall with all the other art he treasured. It was a nice touch, and one Cullen kicked himself for not thinking of, but he was glad Dorian had thought of it. And to hang it in his bedroom, where he'd see it every night and every morning…

But that's not what he said was it? He'd said ‘our bedroom.’ _Our._ It was probably a slip of the tongue, like how you sometimes call a hotel room ‘home’ when you're on vacation.

Surely.

Cullen pulled away, just enough to meet Dorian's grey eyes. He raised an eyebrow just a notch. “Our bedroom?”

\----

_You’ve committed. He’s just done something beautiful for you and you really need to not fuck this up._

“Well,” Dorian began before a slightly nervous laugh left his lips, “it _is_ , isn’t it?” He squeezed Cullen’s knee for a moment before he took a breath and dug the other box out of his pocket. It was smaller than the other one, now with a rumpled silver ribbon for how it had been crammed in Dorian’s pocket, but somehow felt heavier. He held it out.

“Part two,” he explained, “and the one I didn’t actually buy, so…”

\----

Cullen's brows knit together in confusion. When had it become _their_ bedroom? His heart pounded at the implication behind those words, and his hands shook slightly as they removed that silver ribbon, setting it aside with the one from the earlier gift, and opened the little box. Again, he could feel Dorian's eyes on him as he looked inside.

It was a key. It was _his_ key, the one that had the red paint on the top. The one Dorian had given him twice before… and now a third time. Those words - our bedroom - and now this. Cullen thought he understood what was happening, and he felt a surge of excited happiness at the thought, but he wanted to be clear. He wanted to hear Dorian tell him what he meant.

“Is this… are you asking what I think?”

\----

_Do it, Pavus. Be an adult and do this the right way_.

There was a quick pause as Dorian tried to remember how to breathe. He was half expecting Cullen to give him the same confused look as before, and when he didn’t Dorian couldn’t help the relief that filled him. Then... well, now he had to talk. He wasn’t even sure he had the air to make the words come out.

“I’m asking if maybe that room at Mia’s would be better as a guest room,” he offered, “permanently. If you’d want that.” He smiled, though just by feel Dorian knew it was a tense one. “And if you’d want to live here. With me.”

\----

A year ago, Cullen would have spiralled into his own head at that. He'd have lost himself in the fear that Dorian didn't really want what he was saying, that Cullen wasn't worthy, that living together would somehow make Dorian finally see him for what he was.

This wasn't a year ago, though, and Cullen didn't hesitate for a moment.

“Yes. Yes, I'd like that,’ he replied, leaning forward with wide, excited eyes. Perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, truth be told, but he couldn't help it. He coughed to regain control before continuing, “wherever you are… that's home. That's how I've felt for a while now, and I'd like it to be… more than that… more than a feeling.”

\----

Dorian could breathe again, thank the Maker. He sucked in a breath and let it out before he started laughing and leaned over to kiss Cullen’s temple, “It’ll certainly be more than just a feeling,” he promised before he nuzzled at the other man’s cheek. That had been the answer he’d wanted, despite how his heart was pounding in his chest. For a moment he’d wondered if, like that evening in the restaurant when they’d decided to be something official, he might be struck down or something. Thankfully not.

“Come here,” he teased as he pushed the pillow that was still half in his lap out of the way and gestured for Cullen to move the guitar to the floor, “I’m going to demand a million kisses because I’d worked myself in quite a state over it and you’re going to give them to me.”

\----

“Did you honestly think I’d say no?” Cullen chuckled as he laid his guitar back in its case. He moved in, nestling next to Dorian as they laid back on the couch together. “But a million kisses it is. Care to keep count?” He inclined his head and brushed his lips to Dorian’s, “One.” And again, “Two. I can do this all night, you know.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so content. Seven years of feeling displaced, like he didn’t belong anywhere, had worn him thin. Now he knew that, come what may, he would lie down every night next to someone he loved - someone he _belonged_ with. That thought alone was like homecoming. It was funny - he hadn’t even known it, but when he walked in the door earlier, he was already coming home. His heart hitched again, and those light, playful kisses became something deeper as his arms held Dorian as tightly as they could.

\----

He knew full and well that it was going to be an adjustment. Dorian hadn’t lived with anyone since his Uni days and knew for a fact he was terribly particular. He was, however, willing to make it all work. It would, Dorian knew it would, but he was still nervous. Less than he’d been about asking, but he couldn’t help just that little rattle of understanding that before too long Cullen would live there with him. All the time. For as long as they both wanted, which was...forever, preferably. It was the first time in a while he could almost see the rest of his life stretch out ahead of him and know that he’d made a good decision.                 

“I think this really does call for celebration, you know,” Dorian teased between kisses. They were probably already well into the twenties at this point. One hand slid along Cullen’s chest as he kissed the other man for a long, slow, and heated few moments. After everything, he wanted one of those nights that Cullen had shown him were worth it: all unhurried passion and love in intimate touches while they moved together. Sex was...important between them. It was an extension of their affection for one another, and suddenly Dorian wanted all of the meaningfulness he could get. “Come to bed with me,” he prompted, lips teasing at Cullen’s for kisses, “ _our_ bed.”

\----

Those kisses had started having an effect on him, warming more than just his heart. Cullen smiled, biting his bottom lip before he replied, “That is an excellent idea. To… our bed.” Just saying the words made his insides shake a little. He'd done this before. He knew that, however right it felt, it would take time before saying things like that felt normal. For now, he was happy to enjoy the little skip in his heart before things evened out. Before they got bogged down in the logistics of finding room for him in what had been Dorian's home alone for years. That would come later. Tonight was about celebrating the fact that they continued to move forward, that they'd chosen to move together. It really was one of the best Midwinters Cullen could recall.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced here is Eddie Vedder's "Without You": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_AHWi7HR5g
> 
> I basically decided that Cullen sounds like Eddie Vedder at some point through this, and this song was kind of perfect. <3


	3. Family [1 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plans are made to complete the move and meet the family.

The last few days had passed in a whirlwind of giddy energy. After they'd had their own little Midwinter celebration, after they'd spent long tender hours building to a slow, warm release tangled up together in what was now _their_ bed, Cullen had lain awake with his head nestled on Dorian's chest, listening to him breathe and the sound of his heartbeat, steady and slow in sleep. _I'm home_ , he'd thought then, and again over breakfast the next morning and while chatting through a TV show neither of them was really watching and again when they were cleaning up from dinner the night before. The thought would take him suddenly during the most mundane of tasks, it seemed, and he'd flush with pleasure. _I'm home._

This morning found Cullen sitting in the backseat of a cab on his way back to Mia’s, but only temporarily. There were a few things he needed, notebooks, music sent by the next artist he was working with at the studio, maybe a few more changes of clothes… and he wanted to tell his sister in person. So, he'd kissed Dorian goodbye while he sat on the couch, coffee in hand, and headed out.

When he arrived, Mia was in full preparation mode. Bran and Rosalie were supposed to arrive today, and Mia and the kids were a flurry of cleaning and cooking getting ready for their arrival. He walked into the kitchen to find his sister frowning at a sheet of slightly burnt cookies, hands on her hips and flour on her apron. “Hey Mia, I'm back. Need a hand?”

\----

Mia blinked, shaken from her thoughts by the sound of Cullen speaking to her, and she smiled a bit, “Ah, just... thinking.” She wiped her hands on her apron and cocked her head to the side. There were about eighteen lists going on in her head, and Cullen getting back ticked off about five of those things at once. “If you could maybe get whatever you need out of your room? Gwen’s making up your bed on the foldaway, so you’ll probably have to redo it if you want it to not just be the throw blanket and a pillow,” she explained and smiled a little, “are you... coming with us to pick Rosie up at the airport?”

\----

_Well…_

Cullen hadn’t intended on staying longer than it took to tell Mia the news and grab the things he needed, but his sister clearly had her hands full. She was younger than him, but she'd always been the glue that held the Rutherford siblings together. She was the one who'd looked out for them and kept these get togethers going now that their mom and dad were getting up there in age. And she still did it, usually with a smile and a wisecrack, even though her husband, Will, had been called away on active duty with the Wardens. He couldn't just abandon her today. He and Dorian had… well, now they had as much time as they wanted, barring work hours.

“I… ah, I don't think I'll make the airport run tonight, but I can stay until then to help with any cooking or cleaning you have left,” he said, pulling his phone out.

_[Send Message: Dorian (10:32AM)]: I'm sorry. Mia really needs help. I'm sticking around here a little longer. Should be home for dinner though._

He smiled that he could say that now, hit send, and pocketed his phone. That done, he rolled his sleeves up and strode over to the sink full of dishes and pans. As the water ran, he turned back to her, “Listen, I need to tell you something. It's… important.”

\----

She’d started on another batch of cookies, ones that hopefully wouldn’t be too ‘golden and delicious’ on the sides, and looked up from where she was dishing out the dough balls onto the sheet. “Is everything okay?” Mia asked. There were a hundred different things that could be wrong, and anytime Cullen got terribly serious, it made her nervous. “Is Dorian okay?”

\----

“Oh, yeah… it's nothing like that. Everything's fine,” he quickly replied. Cullen didn't mean to alarm her… but it did warm his heart that Dorian was now apparently part of her list of people important enough to worry about. She was the only one from Cullen's family who had met Dorian, and, despite the circumstances under which they met, she always seemed to like him. He didn't ask too many questions about the night that brought her and Dorian together. Cullen’s mind had been so fragmented at the time that he didn't remember it himself... but something Dorian did had earned her respect.

Still, Cullen felt a sudden nervous energy rising at the thought of telling her they'd be moving in together. Of all his siblings, hers was the opinion he valued most, and he knew she had a skeptical side, regardless of how much she liked Dorian. Cullen turned the faucet off and cleared his throat.

“It's just... he asked… I mean, we've decided to move in together,” he couldn't help the little cringe and the way he twisted the ring around his thumb as he spoke, “I'm in your hair here, anyway. You don't need to babysit me on top of everything.”

\----

Mia blinked once, then twice, before she let out a bark of laughter and quickly wiped her hands on her apron. “That’s great!” she exclaimed before reaching up to ruffle those slightly grown out curls, “Not that I haven’t loved having you here, and the kids have loved having you close, but... Cullen, that’s great.” A warm smile touched her face and she kissed her brother’s forehead, “When did this all happen? Maker... I’m so happy for you, that’s really great.”

\----

A sigh of relief escaped scarred lips. He felt a little silly - he was worrying like he had when he first told his mom he and Ella were looking for apartments together. He was fresh out of college then and a grown man officially closer to 40 than 30 now, but for a moment, it felt the same.

“The night we did our Midwinter thing,” he laughed. He was already happy… her reaction had made him that much more so. “It was… it was cute, really, but don't tell him I said so. He'd taken my copy of his key… though I guess it's mine now… and wrapped it to give back to me. You really should have seen his face. He'd worked himself up over it,” Cullen paused and let out a soft chuckle, “Like I was going to say no.”

Of course, Cullen had worked himself up over his own gift, but she didn't need to hear that part. She'd seen it firsthand every time he made her listen to the work in progress.

“I'm not sure when I'll haul my stuff over there, not that I have much, but… I'm happy. You know, it's... home.”

\----

Mia ruffled his hair one more time before she quickly washed her hands and went back to the cookies, “I can only imagine what you two looked like, all worked up,” she teased, “and you’re welcome to use Will’s truck to move stuff whenever you’re ready.” Her eyes, ones that were so much like Cullen’s, cast a glance over at Cullen then. “So,” she went on, “should I set an extra place for the big dinner, then? For Dorian?”

\----

_Oh, right. The dinner._

Cullen dragged a hand across his stubbled cheek. She was going to be disappointed, he knew it, but meeting the entire Rutherford clan all at once on a holiday where you were pretty much mandated to _be happy with your family if it kills you_ wasn’t really the best way to get Dorian’s feet wet. He’d put up a brave front, of course, saying he would go until Cullen poked a little and found that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the thought. Which was fine. Everyone had their limits, and family was a sore spot for Dorian, to say the absolute least. Cullen wasn’t about to put him in a position that might make him uncomfortable or, Maker perish the thought, send him into a panic.

“Actually, we should talk about that, too,” Cullen went on, a little more seriously than before, “You know how we are when we get together. It can be a bit… much… and meeting all of us all at once for the first time… can you imagine?” He took a breath, “I was thinking it might be better if we did a few smaller things with Bran and Rosie and Mom and Dad while they’re in town. Lunches, dinners, something like that. What do you think?”

\----

“How about dinner tomorrow?” Mia offered, “I’m sure Bran and Rosie would love to do dinner in the city one night, and it’s a good excuse.” She smiled a little and scooted along the counter to nudge her brother, “Mom and Dad are getting in around three, so... it might be fun? I’ll leave reservations and wherever we’re eating up to you two. Just... you know how Mom and Dad are. Maybe tell Dorian nothing too out there?”

\----

Cullen snorted at the thought of his incredibly Fereldan mom and dad sitting at one of Dorian's fashionable little eateries. They'd be… well, polite but horrified. “Nah, I'll reign him in if need be, but he's pretty much used to it now. He manages to get me into one of his places every now and then… and I always have to grab a burger afterwards. Which, I'm fairly certain offends him to his core,” he shrugged. “But turnabout is fair play. I've gotten him into a diner or two in the past.”

Cullen slung an arm around his sister’s shoulders and kissed her temple. “Thanks for understanding. Let's get him in the shallow end first, right?” His tone dropped a bit as he continued, “If I'm honest, _I'll_ probably be a wreck at the big dinner. It'll be the first since… well, you know.”

He knew that everyone _knew_ why he'd been so conspicuously absent for the past several years. Ella passing. The drugs. Rehab. Families gossiped just like any other big group of people and, well-meaning as they might be, they'd still be _watching_ him.

\----

“Hey,” Mia prompted him and looked up into Cullen’s face, “we _missed_ you. Everyone’s just happy you’re doing better now, okay?” she grinned and moved out of Cullen’s arm to put the cookies in before she leaned back against the counter, “And for the record, I did sort of... prime Mom and Dad a little bit. I told them you were seeing someone so you won’t have to, you know, explain that over and over again.”

\----

“Thanks, sis,” Cullen answered with a wink before moving back to the sink to get started with the dishes. He spent the rest of the afternoon like that, helping where he could and chatting with Mia. He made lunch for everyone, grilled cheese, and played with the kids a bit in the snow afterwards. There was a part of him that would miss this, but it was far better to visit, knowing there was a warm place waiting for him, than it was to constantly live it. By the time he gathered his stuff, hugged everyone goodbye, and called a cab, he was happy, if tired. It had been a good day.

_[Send Message: Dorian (6:12PM)]: On my way. Home soon._

Cullen smiled again - it was going to take a while before he wouldn't  - and sent the text.

\----

Dorian had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when Cullen sent that message. Clearly it had been an eventful day at Mia’s if he was only just leaving now. He smirked to himself and quickly snapped a picture of himself, collar pulled away from his neck to expose his collarbone, so he could send it off with _waiting not terribly patiently_ as the caption. Maker help them, but this whole Cullen moving in situation was probably going to begin and end with them having sex on damn near every surface of the flat. Not that Dorian minded. Actually, he rather liked when he’d sit on the counter and Cullen would stand between his thighs so they could kiss.

There had been a few minutes where Dorian wondered if Cullen was going to stay later. He remembered hearing something that both the two younger Rutherfords and family would be coming in tonight, and Dorian expected Cullen to stick around to see them. Perhaps not. So he opened a bottle of red, poured himself a glass, and elected to lounge on the couch until Cullen came back. Came home. Home. His home. _Their_ home.

\----

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen muttered when Dorian's message came through. That graceful collarbone was one of his favorite places to kiss Dorian… and he may have gotten a tad overzealous last night. Evidence of that was there, clear as day, and it made the blood rise to Cullen's face. _This man is going to be the death of me._ But that was ok. There were worse ways to go.

A wicked little grin appeared on Cullen's face despite the flush as he considered his reply. _Well, two can play this game._ It was too dark to send a return image (not to mention the presence of the driver in the front seat), and Maker help him, he didn't think he'd ever play at that level, but that didn't mean he couldn't play at all.

_[Send Message: Dorian (6:20PM)]: Someone's proud of himself. There could be more where that came from… if you're patient._

At some point, the honeymoon phase would be over, Cullen knew that, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy it while it lasted.

\----

_[Send Message: Cullen (6:22PM)]: Ur a cruel man_

His insides trembled just a little for the thought of that. It had been years, since he was a teenager, that Dorian had allowed let alone _enjoyed_ teeth marks and love bites on him. There was something so endearing about sweet, sensitive Cullen practically growling in his ear and sucking kisses and bites into his skin. Maker help him, thinking too much of that and Cullen was going to need to get home _soon_.

He spent the rest of the time waiting for Cullen to get home lounged on the couch. The wineglass hadn’t been refilled, or even finished, and Dorian resigned himself to whatever was on television for the moment. That was better than drinking himself tipsy. For whatever they ended up doing for the night, Dorian wanted to be sober for it. It was kind of exciting to wait, actually. Dorian figured that particular excitement would wear off soon enough, but for now he enjoyed that hot and shaky kind of feeling in his stomach.

\----

30 minutes later and Cullen was paying his fare. He shouldered the bag he'd brought with him and walked up the flight of stairs to the door, grinning a silly little grin as he paused for a moment. He took a breath, opened the door, and, for the first time, announced, “I'm home.”

Maker, if that didn't just make his insides turn to mush. He was home, and Dorian was waiting for him. What better feeling was there?

\----

He lifted his head from where it was resting on the couch and Dorian grinned, “Say that again,” he prompted. It made his heart do flips. It was ridiculous and cheesy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. After a moment he sat up, folded his arms to rest his chin on them against the back of the couch, and kept grinning at Cullen, “go on.”

\----

Cullen returned that smile, aware that his cheeks were burning but not really caring. “I’m home,” he said as he crossed the distance to where Dorian sat with his head resting on the back of the couch. “I’m home,” he repeated as he tilted Dorian’s head so he could press his lips against Dorian’s. “As many times as you like, I’m home.”

\----

“Remind me next time to be wearing a set of pearls and to have a cocktail ready for you,” Dorian teased between kisses, “You can hang your hat and coat on the rack and kiss my cheek on the way in like they did in all the old shows.”

\----

“Oh, sure, and after dinner, we’ll go to sleep on our two twin beds with a nightstand between,” Cullen returned with a snort as he rounded the side of the couch and fell into his spot beside Dorian. “That’s quite alright… though I wouldn’t say no to a cocktail or a kiss.”

\----

“What? You don’t think I’d be stunning in pearls?” he asked with a playful scoff before he turned to settle his head in Cullen’s lap, “how’s your sister? Cleaning like a madwoman for the impending arrivals?”

\----

"You have no idea,” Cullen answered as he ran his fingers through Dorian’s hair, “She’s up to her eyeballs. Sorry for abandoning you today, really, but I couldn't leave her there to finish all that up alone.”

As it was, they'd barely finished in time for her to go get Rosie. It wouldn't have been the end of the world for Rosie and Bran to see a partly-clean house, but it would have gotten under Mia’s skin something fierce.

Which reminded him…

“But she was happy… for us. And she's  completely fine with setting up a smaller dinner for just us. You, me, my brother and sisters, and my parents,” he took a breath after that list, “which still sounds like a lot, I know, but trust me, it's better than that plus all the kids plus aunts and uncles… and all their kids. What do you think?”

\----

“Small is good,” he agreed with a nod, “I’d be a little worried to be around that many kids, anyway.” Maker help him, he wouldn’t know what to do. Children were sticky little mysteries to him, really. Parents were as well, come to think of it, and the prospect of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford (never by first names, Dorian had decided) terrified him almost as much as the prospect of there being small children around. Maker, what if Cullen’s parents _hated_ him? Actually... that raised an interesting point.

“Uh, does your family... know?” Dorian asked carefully. That really didn’t sound like a question. “About... ah…” he faltered a bit and quickly gestured between them, “since you were, you know, married to a woman before all this.”

\----

Cullen's fingers stopped running through dark hair as he frowned and raised an eyebrow. “Do they know about… ?” Maker, what did Ella have to do with all this? He thought for a moment, just a breath, and realized what he meant. “Oh! Do they know you're Dorian and not Dora, you mean?” He laughed, “Maker, they've met everyone I've ever dated with any real seriousness. They know about me,” he paused and grinned, “and they know about _you_ , too. Mia’s told them already.” He brushed the backs of his fingers gently over Dorian's cheek. “And they'll love you,” he added softly.

\----

Shit. _Shit shit shit._ Something about hearing that Cullen’s parents knew made his stomach clench and also jump up into his throat. No one’s parents had ever loved him. The girl he’d essentially been betrothed to since he was three? Even her parents were ambivalent at best, and incredibly distant at worst. Though that may have had more to do with his, er, actions. Gereon and Livia were the only ones who seemed to care, though ‘love’ was maybe a bit too strong of a word. “They’ll love that their baby boy is happy,” he offered instead and cleared his throat, “and when is this dinner happening? And where?”

\----

Dorian was anxious. Obviously. Cullen could hear the nerves in his voice, even as he pushed the conversation forward. He knew where it was coming from - meeting your… significant other’s entire family was stressful enough, but Dorian didn’t have much luck with family in general. Dorian’s had been… well, Cullen didn’t like to think about it. The way they’d treated their son, the way they still treated him… it just filled Cullen with equal parts of anger and sadness.

Cullen's fingers went back to tunneling through Dorian's hair - it was one of his favorite things to do, and he hoped it was soothing. Stanton and Elizabeth “call me Lizzie” Rutherford were, he suspected, unlike any parents Dorian had met. And, even though Cullen felt his own anxiety rising when he thought of seeing them all again, the biggest part of him was looking forward to it... and hoping that Dorian would get a chance to see what a caring family looked like.

Once he got past the nerves, that is.

“Their baby boy _is_ happy… very much so,” he chuckled as he scratched Dorian's scalp lightly. “And that’s your doing.” He rested the hand not working through Dorian’s hair on the man’s chest and leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and just relaxing. Despite the nerves they both felt, this was nice. Sitting on the couch with Dorian’s head in his lap and heartbeat under his hand, it was... well, it was ordinary is what it was, but that was what made it so special. That they’d overcome everything to wind up here in, Maker, _their_ living room, worrying over dinner with family was just… extraordinary.

“Mia’s left the planning to us. I'm thinking someplace that's laid back. Even that little sandwich shop would be good.” Cullen opened his eyes and looked back down at Dorian, “She was hoping it could be tomorrow evening… if that’s not too soon?”

\----

 _Tomorrow. Tomorrow._ The word rang in his head like bells. A day. He had a day until all this went to the Void in a handbasket, more or less. Great. Wonderful. “Tomorrow’s fine,” he answered, though it came out that little bit choked sounding, “I’ve, uh... I’ve got to deal with some buyers coming in to look at some pieces we got in yesterday, but I shouldn’t be there too long.” One hand lifted to smooth at his mustache and Dorian took a breath.

There was a very good chance this was going to be a clusterfuck and then some. Then again, there was every chance he’d be ignored in favor of family talking. It had been how long since Cullen had seen them all? Odds were good they wouldn’t even care if Dorian was there or not.

“And we’re not treating your family to dinner in a cafe meant for cappuccinos and... sandwiches,” he pointed out, “I’ll put in a reservation somewhere nice.” Maker, the last thing he needed was them thinking he hadn’t put any effort in. “You said laid back?” he asked. _Hilarious_. “There’s a... gastropub type thing,” he offered, “kind of trendy, but they do good food and great beer. It would be a good place to be able to sit and talk for a bit, I suppose. And probably less small and crowded than the cafe if there’s to be... what? Eight of us? More?”

\----

Oh, no. Dorian was anything but soothed. Tomorrow was too soon, clearly. When Cullen thought about it, he agreed. A lot of change was happening right now - they'd been giddy like schoolchildren over Cullen moving in, but they both knew it would be work and awkward fumbling to make it actually their home. And on the heels of that change, family dinner with the Rutherfords. He could see why Dorian's words came out like a waterfall and why the heartbeat under Cullen's hand jumped and fluttered.

“Hey,” he said, meeting Dorian's eyes before continuing in a softer tone, “We don't have to do this _now_ , you know. I can call Mia and see if there's another day, or we could just wait until after _we're_ settled. And that would be perfectly fine, I promise.”

\----

“No,” he answered immediately and shook his head. It had already been discussed and backing out on it would only make him look weak. Scared. If Dorian could sit at a table with Halward, Aquinea, and both sets of their parents then he could... manage. Even if it was awkward for him, he wasn’t about to rob Cullen of the opportunity to prove to his family that his life was getting back on track. “It’s fine,” Dorian went on and waved a hand, “we’ll plan something nice.”

First impressions were very important things, and the last thing Dorian wanted was to not even be present for his own. Yes, apparently Mia had already primed the way (though Dorian could only wonder how it had gone - “He’s _Tevinter_ ” or something like it) but the only thing more mortifying would be “oh, well we _were_ going to meet for dinner, and then he had a panic attack about it.” Dorian imagined the cocked eyebrows and not-terribly subtle nods before being written off entirely. No, not happening.

“I think a pub would be a good idea,” Dorian went on, “there’s a bit of everything and it’s not... well, aren’t most Ferelden’s born in a pub? Or a log cabin or something?” He was trying to tease, to put off his concern in a way that might not look so obvious.

\----

Cullen regarded Dorian's face a while, trying to keep his keep his own as open as possible. Dorian cracking jokes at a time like this, when he was so clearly agitated, was always a good indicator that things _weren't_ fine. A bit of advice Cullen's therapist gave him when he was working through trust issues he'd let fester from that first year with Dorian came to mind. _If you believe him, **believe** him. Trust that how he says he feels is truth, and don't let your own fear decide for him. _

This wasn't the same situation, not by a long shot, but even now, he had to tell his mind to stop. Dorian said it was fine. It would do neither of them any good for Cullen to worry or project his own nervousness. Or use Dorian as his own scapegoat to get out of it.

“I was born in a hospital, thank you… though there may have been some celebratory drinks at the pub for Dad after,” Cullen joked back. “A pub, an actual pub, would be good. Just… Dorian… they're…” his mind searched for a word to describe his family's tastes. _Plain? Simple? Constantly strapped for cash?_ “not… fancy? Something low key and… inexpensive, you know?” His face grew a little hot at that admission, but he'd never hid the fact that he came from… humble origins.

\----

“Simple pub, then,” he agreed with a nod. There were a few around, some he’d been to with Sera and Dagna on occasion which he rather liked in their Old Worldy (sort of) simplicity. The trendy spots with their overpriced cocktails and tiny plates of food did get old sometimes. “Are you trying to say they wouldn’t want to eat somewhere with strobe lights and house music playing?” Dorian offered, the slightest hint of a smile actually coming back to his face.

Simple. Family and simple and low key had never entered into the same sentence for him in his life. Dorian could recall dinners with Avi and Avia, full Tevinter affairs with white linen napkins and more cutlery than was ever necessary for a meal, that consisted of either silence or not very gentle prodding about his choices. They’d supported his… ”treatment”, he’d found out. Not that he was surprised, of course, but still. It was never anything other than rigid and full of expectation.

“There’s a place,” he mused, and grabbed out his phone to start looking it up, “not too far from work. On the more earnest side than ironic pub-going.” Dorian turned the phone around to show Cullen the screen which showed a warm and comfortable setting and only one dollar sign on the menu listing. It was for good, hearty lunches and dinners and good beer. Easy. “Something like this?”

\----

Cullen didn't recognize the place, but the pictures showed people dressed in jeans and food that looked, well, like something he'd cook himself. “That's perfect,” he sighed, glad that Dorian picked up his meaning, “If my Dad had any hair left, it’d probably fall out if we took him to a place with, what did you say? Strobe lights and house music.” He laughed again at the mental image he drew of his parents trying to make sense of what in the Void a _gastropub_ even was. Cullen still wasn't sure, and he'd eaten at a few.

The air seemed like it had cleared a bit, though, and that was good. It would be fine. They'd be there for each other through it, after all.

\----

He nodded, “I’ll book it in the morning,” and drummed his fingers, still full of nervous energy, against Cullen’s knee. So that was decided. It was all but stone now. “Are you going to Mia’s tomorrow to see everyone before?” Dorian asked as he sat up and pulled one knee up to his chest, “I’ll probably be up at the office for most of the day. Nothing waits on mosaics from Orzamaar, after all.”

\----

“I… hmmmm…” Cullen started, “To tell you the truth, I hadn't gotten that far. My mind kind of stopped at ‘dinner plans’.” He tucked his foot up underneath himself, turning a bit to face Dorian better while he thought, “Though that's not a bad idea. I could just.. go ahead and load up my stuff into Will’s truck and bring it back here before dinner.” And then that would be it, wouldn't it? This would be less an extended weekend stay and more a permanent arrangement once that was done. “There's not much. It's kind of sad, but considering…” his voice trailed off for a moment and he shook his head before continuing, “would that be ok?”

 _Last chance to back out,_ is what the question implied. Maker help him, months of therapy and working through their issues still hadn't killed that voice of doubt entirely.

\----

Dorian nodded and leaned over to kiss Cullen’s shoulder, “Here I was thinking we’d be hiring a truck and schlepping tacky furniture all up the stairs.” The thought of Cullen getting everything moved in did help his anxiety about the following day a little. There was something sort of fun about moving things around and making it _their_ home instead of _his_ home with Cullen’s stuff crammed in where it fit. “I was thinking,” he mused as he leaned over to grab his wine and sip from it, “especially if you’re going to bring your things tomorrow, that we might go and pick out some... you know, new sheets and a comforter and everything? Towels too? So it’s _ours_?” There was probably going to need to be a dresser purchased too, or something like it, and better storage in the bathroom.

It took a bit to entwine two lives together, didn’t it?

“But that can wait until this Midwinter business is done,” he pointed out, “no sense in going out in all the crowds just yet. I just thought it might be fun to pick some things out together?”

\----

Going to the store. To pick out towels and sheets. Any other day, and Cullen would have thought that right up there on the list of tasks that were entirely uninteresting to him. This wasn't just any other day, though, and the person suggesting it wasn't just any other person. This was Dorian; this was the person he loved, making the first step towards turning Dorian’s home into _their_ home. It was just towels and sheets, yes, but it was so much more than that to Cullen.

He let out a slow exhale as he relaxed muscles that had tensed subconsciously. Dorian wasn't backing down, he was pressing forward. It made Cullen almost as giddy as the night Dorian had presented him with his own key. This was going to work. They were going to build a life together.

Starting with towels.

“That's… yes, that's a good idea,” he said, face serious before clearing his throat and continuing more playfully, “We can fight over who gets to push the cart, and you can be terrified by my lack of taste. Let's make a day of it.”

\----

It all seemed like everything Dorian had turned his nose up at in the past. He’d never done _domestic_. He’d always hated the idea of arguing over laundry or that the trash wasn’t taken out when it should have been, but... he _wanted_ it. Dorian didn’t want the illusion of it: maids and cooks and everything else whisking away the unpleasant minutiae of romantic life. He wanted Cullen. He wanted Cullen and to know that guitar picks were going to be jammed in every crack and crevice in the place, and that when he came home there’d be the man himself working on some song on the couch. He wanted them to argue and fight and get the poison out in a way he’d never seen in his life.

On some level, a level he hadn’t even realized until they’d gotten back together and started spending more healthy time together, Dorian wondered if maybe this was the antidote to some of the poison in him. It wouldn’t heal everything, he understood that, but some things. It felt like it did, anyway. That was... something.

He sipped from his wine again before he let himself tip over so his head rested against Cullen’s shoulder. There were still a lot of nerves about the upcoming day, yes, but they were slowly being edged out by excitement. Dorian could handle that. “I draw the line at flannel printed linens, though,” he teased, “except they only cut that for your formal wear in Ferelden, yes?” Now he was smiling for real and Dorian reached out a hand to take Cullen’s. “We’ll find something that fits us both. And I want to see if I can get that music framed as well.”

\----

The next day was full of activity, which suited Cullen just fine. He didn’t have time to worry about the dinner that evening… whether Dorian would be ok or whether he’d be strong enough to face his parents when he saw them. Instead, he’d cooked breakfast while Dorian got ready for work, kissed him goodbye… several times… and got ready to head back to Mia’s.

Everyone was gathered in the living room when he got there. They were, all of them, still in pajamas and nursing cups of coffee, wearing faces that said perhaps they’d stayed up too late catching up the night before. Cullen remembered those days - he’d stayed up well into the wee hours of the morning himself, once upon a time, swapping stories or playing if they asked him to. It had been fun, and he felt a little twinge that he’d missed it. Not that he and Dorian didn’t eventually have their own fun, but this was altogether different.

When he walked in, the room was silent for a good long moment, long enough to make Cullen wonder if maybe they hadn’t all missed him as much as Mia let on. But then the silence broke, and Rosie’s arms were around him and her big brown doe eyes were full of tears as she buried her face in his chest and thanked the Maker. Cullen tensed for only a second before he hugged his little sister back and kissed the top of her head. Bran rose more slowly from where he sat next to his wife and approached them slowly while Rosie was still fawning over Cullen. His face was guarded, more serious than Cullen could remember ever seeing it as he stopped in front of them and took a deep breath.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here...” he began, tone hard and brows knit. _Here it comes,_ Cullen thought as his stomach jumped into his throat. Of course they wouldn’t all accept him with open arms. Regardless of how much therapy or reinventing he’d done in the past year, his actions from before still stood. No one had wiped a slate clean for him.

An uneasy silence fell over the room, and Rosie disentangled herself from Cullen. “Bran!” she hissed.

“Look, Bran, I’m just here for…” but that was as far as Cullen got before his brother snorted and the facade broke.

“I’m just kidding - you’re always so serious,” he laughed as he wrapped Cullen in a bear hug. “Maker, it’s good to see you, big brother.” There was a waver to his voice that told Cullen he was speaking the truth, and Cullen returned that hug. When they pulled away, both of them had wet eyes… and, of course, both of them pretended they didn’t.

The rest of the day was for packing up and catching up. Seven years of stories unfolded as Cullen boxed up what little he had. He stayed silent throughout most of them, until they asked about Dorian. Even then, he selected what he did and didn’t share carefully.

In the end, Bran helped him load the few boxes of clothes, books, gear, and other things Cullen had managed to hold onto. It wasn’t much, but he was glad to have the help. His brother rode with him back to Dorian’s… no… _home_ , helped him unload, and then drove Will’s truck back to Mia’s with a wave and a promise to see him at dinner at 7.

Dorian wasn’t back yet, and Cullen hadn’t gotten any messages from him all day. _He must be busy_ , he thought as he eyeballed the boxes he and Bran lugged up. _Well, it’s all here now. That makes it official._ He grinned at the thought, but that grin quickly turned into a frown. _Where am I going to put any of this?_

\----

From the moment he’d woken up that morning, Dorian had been nervous. He’d tried to hide it, hopefully he’d managed, but he was driven practically to distraction all day. Of course he’d made the reservations, that was first thing, but the closer and closer it got to time to go, the less Dorian was able to focus. He’d spent hours in their archives and collections just... fussing. The mosaics were truly gorgeous and certainly easy to lose himself in, and by the time he looked at the clock it was six-thirty. Dorian had been there since nine with only a break for a quick lunch, and had he not looked up he might have completely missed leaving for dinner. Maker, he hadn’t even texted Cullen all day.

_[Send Message: Cullen (6:34PM)]: Finishing up a few things here, hope u had a good time at Mias. ill meet u and everyone at the pub. thinking of u._

There were still a few things to do up in his office, which included writing up a whole report on the mosaic. He could do that. Dorian _wasn’t_ stalling. It wouldn’t take long to get to the pub, after all. He had time. Then he’d go and be supportive of Cullen seeing his family. He would put aside his nerves and... meet them. Meeting Mia hadn’t been that hard, despite the situation, so he knew it was possible. That said: parents.

Even Dorian’s own parents hated him. Cullen’s would probably not be that much different. He would try, try to be impressive without hopefully coming off as pretentious or something that would be bad for Cullen, but that never meant anything. Parents always seemed to know he was shit at this kind of thing, regardless that he was doing his best. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe. Hopefully.

_Maker, maybe I should have taken that out when I could._


	4. Family [2 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian's nerves get the best of him when he meets Cullen's family.

The TV was on, but Cullen couldn't have said what it was he was watching to save his life. After he'd showered and shaved, he got dressed… and that left him with little to do to occupy his mind. He tried playing for a while, but that was a non-starter. He couldn't keep still, his knee was bouncing out of control and his fingers fumbled over the notes, so he gave it up as a bad deal. His phone was in his hand, constantly being turned on to check the time as he paced around the apartment. 

A nasty thought had occurred to him, another test of his still quite new sobriety, when his eyes caught the sight of one of the little organizers for Dorian's medication - the actual bottles themselves were stored away out of sight of course, but there was a reminder that they existed right in front of him. It wasn't anything huge - it wasn't an insatiable need or urge, but it was a gnat buzzing about in the back of his mind - _there is something in this apartment that could level this out_. He normally didn't give Dorian's medication a second thought, but this evening was going to be trying, and he'd managed to work himself up into an anxious mess in the hours after Bran left. There was just... so much riding on this. How would Cullen's parents react? Would the be disappointed? Would they still be hurt? Maker, would they be angry? And then, on top of that, how would Dorian react to meeting his family... and how would his family react to meeting him? Too many questions - too many by far, and they circled his mind, whirling and scattered. 

He'd called his sponsor then, as he knew he should, a soft-spoken but passionate man by the name of Anders who talked Cullen down into a slightly more manageable state. Having a sponsor was strange. Opening up to a person Cullen had never met was strange… but it was liberating, too. It saved Dorian from expectation - the expectation that he could somehow magically fix everything -  even as Cullen learned to open up and lean on him for emotional support. 

Still, even after speaking with Anders, Cullen felt unsettled. He'd made tea and sat in front of the TV, but the tea grew cold in his hands and the TV was largely ignored as he tried to play the evening out in his head. Those questions from before still circulated in his head, though in a manner that was a bit calmer and more logical. He spent his time mapping out possible reactions to every negative outcome, and was jerked back into the here and now when his phone buzzed in his hand.

Dorian was caught up at work. Part of him wondered if that was on purpose, but maybe not. He couldn't imagine that it would be easier to walk in alone. He surely wasn't looking forward to it now that it was happening. He didn't realize how much he'd wanted a hand to squeeze or a warm word of encouragement until now, when it wasn’t an option. Alone, then. It would be fine. He needed to do this… he needed to be _able_ to do this.

Cullen snapped a picture of the small group of boxes stacked neatly against the counter and sent it back to Dorian. _It was productive. I live here now. Don't work too hard and I'll see you soon._ He considered for a moment before adding _I love you_ and hitting send _._ Openly saying those words was still very new, but it had been a strange day, and whatever happened tonight, he wanted Dorian to know that that, at least, was fact.

Sooner than he would have liked, Cullen found himself in a cab, pulling into the parking lot. Mia’s car was already there, a large SUV that was still too small to accommodate the whole clan comfortably. As he walked to the door, he found himself wishing that he hadn't quit smoking, too.

“Cullen?” a familiar voice called his name from behind him. It was weathered with age, cracked where it hadn't been before, but still as warm and sweet as he remembered it. He blinked once, twice, and then turned.

“Mom?” he asked, voice strangled and low, as he took a tentative step towards the small woman with the kind face framed by white hair. Her honey-colored eyes opened wide as she raised a hand to her mouth, taking a step of her own towards him. A rush of emotions hit Cullen all at once, none of which his mental acrobatics from earlier prepared him for. He couldn’t make sense of it; he only knew that his body was propelling him forward and his arms were wrapping around her. “Mom,” he said again, voice reedy and plaintive as he buried his face in her snowy hair. She smelled of memory and childhood and dinners and warmth, and Cullen was lost on that wave, unashamed at the tears that trailed down his cheeks. None of the words he'd prepared escaped his lips. None of them were needed. Everything worth saying was said in that embrace.

“Son.” Cullen heard a deep voice and felt a warm hand on his back.

“Dad,” was all he could manage as he threw an arm out to pull his father in.

The three of them stood there like that for a while, a little world unto themselves. No words were said for a good long while, but no words were needed. Volumes were spoken in tears and smiles and love.

“It's good to have you back,” the deep rumbly voice of Stanton Rutherford finally cut through the silence.

“It's good to be back,” came Cullen's reply as he wiped at his eyes and smiled, wondering what in the world he'd been so damn scared of before.

\----

It was past seven when Dorian made it to the pub. He’d figured it was faster to walk, which it was, but it was also fucking _cold_. Both hands were clenched in fists in his coat, and he knew he was shivering. Still, as he stood out on the sidewalk, just off to the side of the pub, Dorian couldn’t make himself go in. It would be warm in there, he knew that much, but he couldn’t make his feet work. The fifteen minutes or so he’d been walking, which he thought might help his nerves, had worked him up until his heart pounded and his mind whirled with every bad outcome that this could have. His fingers brushed his phone, and he half contemplated texting Cullen a simple _I can’t do it._

Cullen would understand because he knew Dorian’s history. He’d understand because he was nervous too. He’d understand because he was a _good man_. Dorian expected he’d be disappointed, but he would get it.

Except he’d made a promise that he’d be there with Cullen during these difficult situations. He’d promised to support him, even if it was uncomfortable. Not that Cullen would _want_ him to be uncomfortable, but it was the reality of the situation. No, he had to do this. He would. He would once he could convince himself to take the steps forward and go inside. Eventually, he’d get there. Or he’d freeze to death, one or the other.

Dorian could half imagine the setting: everyone seated around the table and chatting. There would be polite nodding, soft words, and... what? His brain somehow supplied every family meal he’d ever had, both with Halward and Aquinea and with Felix’s family. They were all at a Midwinter party as well, come to think of it. All of them together. That meant that when he opened that door, it wouldn’t be them sitting there. _Halward and Aquinea are far away. Far. Away._ Felix had sent him a message telling him he’d keep an ear out for fun gossip, the great Tevinter pastime, so there was no way his parents could be anywhere close.

But it felt like they were right there, his mother’s nails in his elbow as they marched him forward to see his grandparents. It made him break out in a cold sweat under his suit and coat, and Dorian took a couple of deep breaths. Cullen wouldn’t ask him to do something that would be so reminiscent of his own family. He knew that. Logically, he knew that, anyway.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone. The sight of that picture and message Cullen had sent popped up instantly and Dorian did manage a smile. Those boxes meant Cullen really did actually live with him. It was a bit sad that there seemed to be so little, enough to make just one trip, but Dorian had a feeling they’d manage to figure everything out well enough. That wasn’t the point now, though. He studied the picture for another moment before flicking lower in the conversation.

_[Send Message: Cullen (7:05PM)]: Just about there. Sorry. I hate being late._

He sent off the message, took a breath and straightened, then turned to check his hair and face in his phone. It wasn’t terribly windy, just cold, so there wasn’t a hair out of place. Dorian looked put together, despite how he was feeling. He could do this. It was just dinner. Dinner with parents and siblings, which Dorian had no idea how to handle, but it was just a meal. Meals didn’t last forever. he had to do this.

So he took those last few steps and pulled open the door to the pub. It was definitely much warmer in there, and he sighed as he loosened his scarf. A quick glance afforded him the sight of a group of people sitting around one table off to the side. That was it. That was them. Maker help him.

\----

After that embrace full of silent forgiveness, the three Rutherfords made their way into the pub where Mia, Bran and Rosie were waiting. As they walked, the words started coming, mostly comments on how well he looked and how happy they were just to see him doing better.

“You look good, son,” his dad offered as they walked through the door. He laid a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and squeezed before making his way to the table they’d been given. A man of few words, that was Stanton Rutherford.

“Your father’s happy to see you,” his mom said with a smile and a wink. For a moment, he was 10 again, and they were back at home in the kitchen, sharing some secret joke that was most likely at the expense of his overly serious father. “... we all are,” she added softly as she looped her arm through his own and gave him a little push. “How about you escort this old lady to her seat?”

Being with his family again was… well, it was hard to believe he’d been so scared just a few hours ago that he’d needed to talk it out with his sponsor. After he got settled at the table, everything just clicked, and he found himself settling into his place there much more easily than he could have imagined. The only piece left was Dorian. Cullen sent up a little prayer to Andraste and the Maker that he’d be ok with all of this, that he’d see that Cullen’s family was unlike the one he’d left behind in Tevinter.

As the family chatted, Cullen cast looks at the door every few seconds. He felt a bit tight, anxious, waiting for Dorian to arrive. He’d be here. He was only a few minutes late. He’d show up and it would be ok. His family would love him and maybe… maybe he wouldn’t be terrified of them. After Cullen got Dorian’s message, he felt both relieved and more anxious, somehow. He studied the door more intensely, barely hearing Rosie’s story about finishing up work for her master’s this year. It was no surprise that Cullen noticed as soon as Dorian entered, looking handsome as always, but wearing a pinched look on his face.

Cullen excused himself and met Dorian at the door. He wanted just a moment alone, in case Dorian needed… something to help him through. Cullen wasn’t sure what, he just wanted a few minutes with him before the man had to be _on_ for new people.

“Hey,” he greeted Dorian softly, running his hand down the man’s arm and squeezing his hand, “How are you?”

\----

Grey eyes cast a glance down at their joined hand, then up at Cullen’s face, then back toward the table. Not one man he’d ever known had ever touched him in the presence of family. Not that there were many opportunities, but he could remember with vivid clarity a three-foot wide berth he and Rilienus would give each other when they had to be around one another at parties. Well, until they snuck away. That was different. The idea that Cullen would touch him like that with his parents right _there_ made his heart pound that much faster.

“Late,” he answered, “sorry. I got caught up working with the mosaics... having far too much fun, you know?” That was true. Dorian had spent all day looking them over and doing their tests for documentation purposes and he’d lost literally six hours doing it. He hadn’t had that much fun at work in a while. The doing the reports? Well, maybe he’d been stalling. A little.

He took a breath and offered Cullen a small, nervous smile, “I saw the picture. You got everything moved in alright?”

\----

“Everything's there. In boxes, but there,” Cullen answered with a low sort of laugh, watching Dorian's face. He'd noticed that look as well as the accompanying tenseness that shadowed Dorian's face. Maybe this sort of thing wouldn't be appreciated tonight, the little touches or displays of affection that had become their norm. Cullen didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, but Dorian hadn't pulled away. For the first time in a while, at least where just holding Dorian's hand was concerned, Cullen wasn't sure what to do. He was suddenly glad he hadn't leaned in for a kiss.

He squeezed Dorian's hand once more before letting it go. He'd have marched the man right to the table, hands linked the whole time, to introduce him… but it seemed that Dorian might not appreciate that. Maybe. Cullen felt uneasy.

“Ready?” he asked with a crooked smile.

\----

“Not a bit,” he answered honestly, and flexed the hand that Cullen had just let go of. Dorian missed that warmth already, though he wasn’t sure how it would be taken to go up to the table holding hands. He searched Cullen’s face then, “Just let me know if there’s anything I should, ah... avoid?” he asked, “a kick to the ankle should do it.” Maker, he had no idea what to do with all this. “And I can... not, ah... if it bothers them for us touch. I can, you know, not touch you. I understand, believe me,”

He was blushing already, face hot and a shake to his voice. Panic was threatening, and for a moment Dorian wished Cullen hadn’t stopped smoking so he might bum one before this whole thing started. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

\----

Amber eyes snapped open wide. _Him… embarrass me?_

Cullen could hear that shake in his voice, noticed the way he stumbled over his words. Dorian was in a bad way, but he was soldiering on somehow. For him, for Cullen, he was putting himself out there… sailing into unknown waters on a starless night. It hurt a bit to know what he was going through at Cullen’s expense… but it was also oddly heartening. _This_ was how serious Dorian was about him. If he had any lingering doubts, they vanished as Cullen took a breath before stepping into Dorian's space, his hand seeking the hand he'd just dropped.

“Impossible,” he answered, voice low so only Dorian could hear, “You'd never… I'd never be embarrassed by _this,_ ” he said as he raised their entwined hands, “I'm… far too proud to be here with you.” He took a breath then, “You can do this. I just want to… to do whatever it is that makes _you_ comfortable.” He caught Dorian's gaze then, “ _We_ can do this. Ok?”

\----

He took a breath and nodded before painting a smile over his features. Dorian was no stranger to having to deal with people for work. This was fine. All he had to do was just be as impressive as he was to a potential client, after all. This was just another instance of selling his personality and talent and everything else, right? So long as it wasn’t _actually_ Halward and Aquinea there, who were always able to push past his confidence and everything else, it was fine.

“Shall we?” he offered, suddenly all charm as usual. Minus, of course, the fact that his eyes still looked just as panicked as before. Dorian could only hide so much, but hopefully everyone else wouldn’t notice. “I’m late enough as it is.”

\----

Cullen studied Dorian's face for a long moment, searching the man's eyes and knowing the confidence in that voice was a show. Still, he said he was ready, and this… this was likely as good as it was going to get until he got to know them all a little better. Cullen nodded, “Let's go get you introduced.”

He led Dorian to the table without letting go of his hand. There was no way he was going to make Dorian believe for _one second_ that he was embarrassed by him, for any reason. He'd said he was proud, and that was more true than Dorian may ever know. But he could try to help him understand that. He hoped.

“Hey guys,” Cullen announced when they got to the table. All eyes were on them then as he continued, “Everyone, this is Dorian. Dorian, this is… everyone. You know Mia… that's Rosie beside her, and Bran, my dad, Stanton and my mom, Elizabeth…”

Before he could continue, his mom reached her hand out to shake Dorian's. “Call me Lizzie, dear. Please, sit.” She patted the empty seat next to her. “I don't bite… much,” she finished with a wink.

\----

Maker, all those eyes looking at him. Dorian was used to that in a work sense, which this actually wasn’t. No matter what he told himself, this wasn’t just a group of investors or buyers or... anything. That didn’t matter, though. He just had to keep it together through all this. By all accounts, his body language should have appeared cool and calm. He wasn’t even squeezing Cullen’s hand, despite wanting to.

And then there was a hand extended, Cullen’s mother’s, and she was gesturing for him to sit. Beside her. “It’s good to meet you,” he told them all with a slight bow. Dorian offered Cullen’s mother a small smile, though he couldn’t help but blink at a rush of memories:

_You’re sitting beside ME, Dorian. Now sit and be quiet._

He cleared his throat and shrugged out of his coat. It was suddenly far too warm to be wearing it. Then he was left in his charcoal grey suit with the dark plum button down. So he sat. The last thing he wanted to do was to offend anyone. “Forgive me for being late,” he offered, the usual apology rolling off his tongue, “I got a bit caught up.

“Psh,” Bran snickered, “that’s nothing on the girls. Four hours on hair, I swear.”

Immediately one of Mia’s hands reached around behind Rosalie to smack Bran at the back of the head, “Rude! If you had to deal with these curls instead of just buzzing them off it’d take you four hours too.”

\----

“Seriously, Bran, it's not fair,” Rosie complained before an impish look rose on her face, “... besides, we had to wait, like, a million years for you to finish smooching Mandy goodbye.”

Bran’s face turned a satisfying shade of maroon then as Cullen's mother turned to Dorian, “Newlyweds,” she explained with a look that said _what are you going to do_ , “... and what they're saying is we weren't waiting long. Think nothing of it.”

Cullen sighed. Of course they couldn't just be civilized and say _nice to meet you, too_ , but… well, this was his family. As soon as they were comfortable with Dorian, they'd be picking at him, too. Maker, he hoped that wouldn't happen tonight. Surely, they wouldn't. They meant well, and, honestly, it was gentler than Sera ever was, but with the way Dorian's voice shook earlier… he probably wouldn't see it that way.

Oh well. Bran was rarely stricken speechless. The opportunity was too good to pass up.

“Mandy couldn't bear a few hours without your ugly mug, I take it?” Cullen asked, grinning in spite of himself.

\----

“Please, she was squealing to play with the kids the minute we opened the door,” Bran pointed out, “I’m, like, priority five out of five now.”

From his spot at head of the table, Stanton chuckled, “Which means there’ll be another grandbaby by this time next year.”

Dorian’s eyes flicked back and forth between all the siblings as they spoke, and he offered a shaky smile for the explanation Cullen’s mother gave. It was nice to have it be dismissed, though he expected that it wouldn’t be forgotten. Being late never was. His own mother’s presence, which felt like it was standing behind him with one sharp-nailed hand resting on his shoulder, was almost as real any any of the family sitting in front of him. He could feel her radiating outward _be polite, don’t talk so much, sit up STRAIGHT, Dorian. We didn’t raise you in a barn._ So he sat up a bit straighter and smiled up at the waitress as she stopped by to get their drink orders.

Beers, it seemed, all around.

\----

Thankfully, the waitress appeared before anyone could really think on the prospect of another little Bran running around to join the two from his first marriage. That… well, they'd never really talked about it, but Cullen was fairly certain that line of conversation - kids - would just add another layer of uncomfortable to this whole thing for Dorian.

He tried to find some segue that would help Dorian engage, one that wasn't incredibly awkward, anyway, but he was striking out on all fronts. Nothing seemed natural right now…

“So Dorian! Cullen says you work in an art house,” Rosie broke the silence. Her face was lit up with eager curiosity, “that must be amazing. You get to touch all that history…”

\----

Work. He could talk about work. Work was a very safe topic.

“It is, actually,” he agreed with a nod, “I spent most of today fussing with a Dwarven mosaic piece.” Dorian smiled then, “I’m always happy to get to do the hands-on kind of things as opposed to just _selling_ the art. It’s almost a pity there’s not an auction on while you’re here so you could see some of what we get to work with.” Slowly, he slipped into that effortlessly cool and calm sort of place he went when he had to for work. That much was at least comforting.

“Don’t offer her that,” Mia teased, “if you knew how many hours we’ve spent at museums, you’d regret it.”

Dorian waved a hand then, “Maker knows I’ve spent too much time in them myself,” he teased back and smiled at Cullen’s youngest sister, “we can always ditch them and go, if you like. I know the curator of the one here.”

\----

The tension around Dorian unwound just the smallest bit as he talked about work. Cullen was glad to hear that little teasing tone in his voice, anyway. _Maker bless Rosalie._

“Oh, _yes_ ,” Rosie sighed, “You can tell so _much_ about a people by the art they create. And _how_ it's created and…”

“Watch out, Cullen,” Bran snorted, cutting his sister off mid sentence, “You'll never see your man again if Rosie has her way…”

“... not true,” Rosie sniffed, “I have to leave in a few days, anyways... You have no appreciation for culture,” she grinned a wicked little grin before adding, “... _probably_ because you don't have any.”

Cullen groaned as Rosie actually stuck her tongue out at Bran. He cut his eyes sideways to see how Dorian was reacting to all of this. It was hard to tell, without seeing his eyes. Dorian was very good at hiding much under the surface.

“I'm sure I don't have anything to worry about,” Cullen answered, “I'd tag along, I think. Never been to the museum here, actually.”

\----

“Really?” Dorian asked, and cocked an eyebrow. Somehow that had never come up. Once upon a time that would have been a dealbreaker, back when he put up so many conditions no one could meet them, but it was still surprising. For all Dorian talked about art, he had to wonder if Cullen just smiled and nodded and didn’t actually listen or care.

Still, there was something about hearing someone call Dorian ‘Cullen’s man’ and it not be laughed at. Maker, Cullen’s _brother_ had said it. He could only imagine the jokes, and immediately Dorian cast a quick and searching kind of glance to both of Cullen’s parents. Surely, they wouldn’t want to hear that. He almost wished he could give the brother a bit of a kick to the ankle, actually. That had been his and Felix’s sign back when Dorian lived there. They’d both left many a meal with bruised calves and feet.

“Well, while you’re here,” Dorian amended toward Rosalie, “we’ll chat.” Hopefully that would be alright.

\----

“Chat?” Lizzie chortled, “Get ready to have your ear talked clean off. Our Rosie’s always been a talker...”

“... wonder where I got that from?” Rosie quipped, casting a rather pointed look at her mother.

“Dad, clearly,” Cullen cut in with a grin. That got a laugh out of Bran, Mia, and Rosie as well as a raised eyebrow from his father.

It did Cullen good to hear Dorian warm up a bit and offer some of his time to talk to Rosalie. Come to think of it, they’d probably get along famously, assuming Dorian could stand her enthusiasm for long. Maybe… maybe that little bit of common ground would have the man feeling less like a cornered animal and more like a part of the group.

Cullen breathed a little easier. It was going to be ok. His family somehow didn’t resent Cullen for the time he’d missed and the things he’d done, and they hadn’t scared Dorian off yet. Of course, none of them even had their drinks, so there was still time for a major cock up... but still, things had been ok so far. Cullen reached over under the table and squeezed Dorian’s knee in a way that hopefully said _you’re doing fine._

The waitress stopped by to deliver their drinks and take their dinner orders. Cullen took advantage of the ensuing back and forth that accompanied all such important decisions - _what are you having? I don’t know; what are *you* having? I asked you first. Stop being such a baby and pick something._ \- to lean into Dorian’s space, chin resting in his hand, which shielded his mouth from the rest of the table. He spoke low, so that only Dorian could hear, “So far so good?”

\----

Once the conversation moved back between everyone else, Dorian lowered his head and tried to collect himself. His heart was pounding so fast that it actually hurt. Keeping up the work affect made it look easy, and he could pretend well enough without any trouble, but he had to maintain it. Quiet moments in between only made the clench in his stomach worse. Nervous fingers fussed with his jewelry, and when Cullen put that hand on his knee Dorian could feel his mother’s claws in his shoulder.

_Have you lost your senses? What if someone sees? What would they think? Maker, Dorian, are you TRYING to ruin everything?_

Her voice was in his ear as much as Cullen’s was, and he clamped his hands together in front of his face as he turned toward the other man. He was trying very hard not to shake or look...out of sorts. The only indication would probably be his knuckles as they lightened in color while his hands closed together. That question from Cullen, then, was... loaded. No one had hit him yet, nor had they outwardly dismissed him, but ‘good’ wasn’t really the word Dorian would use.

“Fine,” he murmured back with a shake of his head, “it’s fine.” Dorian tried a smile, but he knew it came off more tense than he would have liked. Still, he was doing his best. Hopefully it would be enough. It never was, but he could try.

A laugh from across the table then, “Hey, lovers, going to order? Or do you want some time alone?” Bran. He was grinning. And they were all laughing.

Dorian jerked as far as he could out of Cullen’s space, one hand flinging out to distance himself, and winced as it knocked over one of the water glasses. “Shit!” he hissed, “Maker, I’m so sorry.”

\----

_Fuck, Bran. Shit._

Cullen’s jaw clenched as his mouth pressed into a hard line and he tossed his napkin on the pile the rest of his family had already thrown their way. His mom had stood to start mopping up the water and his dad was stopping the waitress to bring more napkins, but he was only vaguely aware of all these things.

The way Dorian had tensed, even before Bran opened his big dumb mouth… and then the way he pulled away, like Cullen was a hot coal… he knew why, but it still sent a spike of hurt through him. Things were very clearly _not_ “so far so good,” despite the fact that he’d charmed Rosie with just a few words. The man was apparently a steel trap, just waiting for the right thing to come along and trigger it. Cullen wanted to reach out, to try and release that trap safely, but at the moment… he was out of ideas. Should he act like Dorian hadn’t practically leapt away from him and try to reach out again, or should he keep his distance for the rest of the evening?

He had no idea, which honestly hurt worse than Dorian jumping away. All this time, and he was still next to useless when things really bothered Dorian. Cullen stiffened, hands in his lap and eyes facing forward, heat rising to his face at his inability to do… anything.

When Lizzie finished drying the table, she had a healthy pile of sopping napkins in front of her. She looked from her son to Dorian and sighed. Both wound too tightly, especially that Dorian. He’d spoken confidently enough, but Lizzie could see the whites in his eyes the moment he walked up to the table. She had no idea what was going on, but clearly, he was terrified.

“Here, honey,” She said to Dorian, “Come help me find a trashcan for these?”

\----

As if this couldn’t get any worse. Dorian wondered if maybe he should grab his jacket, since he was reasonably sure he was going to be told to get out. He’d wanted to be better. He’d wanted to do this for Cullen, but clearly he couldn’t. Obviously he shouldn’t have known better. Dorian and family didn’t mix. Now they’d think Cullen an idiot for seeing him, and the man had only _just_ gotten close to them again. What a fucking day.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered as he got to his feet. Dorian tried to catch Cullen’s eyes, tried to give him an _I’m sorry_ look, and when he saw how the man was pointedly not looking at him, Dorian’s heart sank even further. This was a disaster. Why was it every time they tried to do something like this, it ended up so completely screwed up? Before he reached out to grab some of those napkins, Dorian hesitantly patted Cullen’s shoulder. It was all he could do.

He grabbed up most of the wet paper, if only so Cullen’s mother wouldn’t have to, and made a bit of a face. Perhaps a sinkhole would open and swallow him. At this point, it would be welcome.

\----

“Lizzie,” she corrected gently and took Dorian's elbow, steering him towards the bar. They handed the napkins to the bartender, but she kept steering him away from the table and towards the hallway that led to the bathroom. It was quiet, but most importantly, it was empty. She stopped them then and faced Dorian.

“They're a handful, aren't they?” she began with a little chuckle. “Enough to set my nerves on fire most days. They're not so good with knowing boundaries, my doing, I'm sure, but they _mean well_.” She paused, searching Dorian's face for a moment before continuing, “Try… try not to let them put you off. It's just their way.” She patted his arm then, “take some time, take a few deep breaths, and come back.”

She turned to go back to the table before stopping, “and thank you. Mia says you were with Cullen when things got really bad, and you're still here. None of us could reach him, but _you_ … just… thank you.”

\----

When Cullen’s mother kept pulling him away after they’d thrown everything away, Dorian’s heart sank. This was it. He knew it. The words “I’m so sorry” were on his lips immediately, but she spoke first. Then Dorian’s face just _burned_. He shrank in on himself. Maker, he wanted to die. To have someone, Cullen’s _mother_ , tell him to get his shit together was fucking mortifying. Granted, she was a lot nicer about it than Aquinea or even Livia. Aquinea’s would have been a trip pulled out by his ear and then a slap to the face, and Livia’s would have been a sharp hiss in the ear. At least Mrs. Rutherford took him away from everyone before chastising him. Then again, everyone would _know_. No woman, a mother least of all, dragged someone away without there being the promise of punishment. Surely, they’d have witnessed as much as kids.

“I’m so sorry,” Dorian managed finally, and it fell out of his mouth with no finesse at all. None. How embarrassing. He could practically see Aquinea behind Cullen’s mother, rolling her eyes, and pulling the woman away so she wouldn’t have to ‘deal with him’ anymore. This was a Maker-damned cluterfuck, and he was ruining Cullen’s first outing with his family in Maker only knew how many years. He should have refused outright, told him to enjoy this time on his own, and spent the night drinking himself stupid at home. That would have been infinitely more productive than this.

When he’d been left alone, out of sight, Dorian turned and very seriously considered throwing a punch against the wall. Except he didn’t want to hurt himself or have to explain that. _Take some time, take a few deep breaths, and come back._ How fucking more embarrassing could this be? That was code for ‘get your shit together’ if ever he heard it. Both hands clenched into a fist and Dorian set his jaw. He _did_ need to get it together, though. For Cullen. This was for him, after all, and Dorian was ruining it.

Maybe just... being silent would be better. Maker, Dorian didn’t know.

He followed after Cullen’s mother, eyes downcast, and settled himself back at the table. Drinks had been brought, the rest of the water cleaned up, and Dorian grabbed for his beer to take a healthy pull from it. As he put the bottle back down, he turned toward Cullen, “I’m so sorry,” he murmured.

\----

Cullen shook his head. “Don't apologize,” he returned, just as softly as he put his phone away.

As soon as they'd left earlier, Cullen shot daggers across the table at his brother. “Take it down a notch,” he'd growled, but Bran had only looked confused.

“Sure, ok,” Bran had responded as silence fell over the table. The unease was palpable, and Cullen had made it so. He was just so… he'd hoped this would be easier. And when it wasn't, he'd wanted to help. _It's not me. It's not really me he's pulling away from… or them that he's scared of._ He knew that on some level, but it did little to improve his mood.

He'd grabbed his phone then.

_[Send Message: Dorian (7:35PM)]: I'm sorry. Bran’s an ass and I'm not much better. It's ok if you need to go. I'm glad you're trying. But if it's too much just say this is from work or whatever. It's ok._

Dorian was back before he could hit send, but he sent it anyway. When Cullen heard Dorian's phone buzzing in his pocket, he gave the man what he hoped was a significant look and nodded. _Check your phone._

\----

He quickly slipped the phone from his pocket, read the message, and then looked back up to Cullen. This... this was a mess. The whole thing was, and now Dorian was just making Cullen’s entire family hate him. Who knew? By the end of this, Cullen might be completely turned off of being with him too. The man was figuring everything out, reconnecting with family, what was to stop him from wanting to move on from this too?

No. That was the panic talking. Thinking that was insane and Dorian knew better. Whatever this was, this mess, it wouldn’t affect things that much.

After a quick breath he sent back-

_[Send Message: Cullen (7:36PM)]: I won’t go unless u want me to. I just feel bad for fucking it all up._

From his spot at the head of the table, Stanton cleared his throat a bit, “We’re, uh... we’re glad we could come do this,” he told them, “your mother loves getting to have all of you in the one place, you know.”

\----

Cullen shook his head, eyes pleading. _I don't want you to go._ He'd never _want_ Dorian to leave… but he also didn't want to push him farther than the man's limits. He wanted to grab Dorian's hand or _something_ , but he didn't dare. Not after that. It clearly made him uncomfortable. He slid his foot over under the table, just enough so that it was touching Dorian's. Maybe that would be ok? Maker, he was trying.

And maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was trying too hard, searching for some way to make it better when it really wasn't his fight. He was a support player here, his role to just be present and supportive as Dorian found his way. Hadn't he already learned - at great cost - that no one could provide that miracle cure for someone else's problems? All he could do was be there, in case Dorian did need him.

So he gave Dorian a little smile - _thank you for being here_ \- and leaned forward, resting his weight against his folded arms on the table. “Yeah, Dad. I'm glad, too,” he hesitated, “It's been too long."


	5. Family [3 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dinner ends on a far better note than it began.

That press of Cullen’s foot was a surprise, though not a bad one. It was hidden, which Dorian appreciated, and considering the nature of the text, he had wondered if Cullen had been asking him to leave. That was a nice _something_ to maybe make him feel like he shouldn’t take the work out and go. So he twisted his foot a bit to rub it along the back of Cullen’s calf. It helped, actually. That contact made him feel a little better.

“Cullen’s moved out of the guest room,” Mia supplied after a long moment, “the kids are already sad. Apparently you make the best jungle gym to play with in the snow.”

At that, Bran grinned, “Better you than me,” he told his brother, “you’d think they were actually a pack of mabari puppies, wouldn’t you?” He cut a glance to Dorian, then to Cullen, then back around to the parents, “But, uh... yeah, the trip up to do the moving was pretty great. Your apartment’s pretty nice, Dorian.” He was obviously trying to amend from before. “Don’t let Cullen do any decorating. There’ll be horse figurines everywhere and I don’t think they go with all that... uh... art you’ve got going.”

Mia snorted a little then, “The horse figurines,” she giggled, “do you remember that stuffed one he had when he was little, Mom?” she asked, “the brown and white one? What was its name... Spots? Something like that. Maker, he used to take it _everywhere_.”

\----

“No, no, it was something like… Sprinkles? I want to say Sprinkles,” Rosalie chimed in.

Cullen groaned and leaned back in his chair, letting his head fall backwards as he rolled his eyes. _Really?_ But yes, really. He knew it was bound to happen, sooner or later… but did it have to start with that stuffed horse, of all things?

Ah well, this was far better than the awkward silence and doubt from a few moments before. He could play along.

He leaned forward again, eyebrow raised. “ _You_ have no room to talk,” he said, pointing a finger at his youngest sister, “with all those creepy little dolls you used to collect.” He leaned back on his arms again. “Besides, her _name_ was Lady Sprinkles Trottington, and mom named her, so there.”

Maker help him, but he had loved that little horse.

\----

“So yeah, no decorating,” Bran affirmed, “I mean, unless you like that kind of thing.”

Dorian had half expected to be ignored for the rest of the night after that little episode. To not be, and to have it almost completely forgotten about, like it hadn’t mattered at all, was almost completely alien. Had that happened with Halward and Aquinea, they wouldn’t have spoken of anything but his clumsiness and immaturity for the rest of the dinner. This? This was... different. Very different.

“Maybe I could spare a shelf or two if they’re absolutely necessary,” Dorian offered, and the smallest of smiles touched his face before he looked back over at Cullen, “and where would the Lady Trottington be now?”

“I think ‘out to pasture’ was what we said,” Stanton answered, “but I think by then he was in the soccer phase. Wanted to be a soccer player... or a rock star, and possibly an astronaut at some point.”

“Pity your parents missed the long hair,” Dorian began, and actually took a breath before he teased a little, “you might have almost been able to pull off the hair metal look. But I do have pictures still.”

\----

“Oh, no,” Lizzie cut in, “There was a phase… in college, I think, when he grew his hair out. Do you remember that, dear?” she asked her husband, who nodded back.

“Why… _why_ are we talking about my hair of all things?” Cullen interjected. He tried not to sound as irritated as he was. That long hair, as much as Dorian had enjoyed it, had become symbolic of a time he'd rather not dwell on. “It was a mess, is what it was.”

“No it wasn't. It was _pretty,”_ Rosie chimed in, “Wasn't it pretty, Mia?”

 _Pretty._ Maker, save him from his family.

\----

“It was rather pretty,” Dorian agreed softly and smiled over at Cullen, “though this is nice.” Again, he rubbed his foot against Cullen’s calf and shifted just a bit closer to the other man.

Mia was smiling then, “So all the boxes fit and everything?” she asked them both.

He nodded, “Apparently,” and lifted a hand to rub against the back of his neck, “though we might need to do some shopping for, you know, extra storage. _After_ the holiday rush, mind. I don’t have a death wish.”

\----

“Nor do I,” Cullen agreed. He was heartened by the way Dorian leaned in, just a bit, and that foot moving against his leg. He never thought he’d see the day when he was so glad to be… well, playing footsie under the table. They weren’t, not really, but he still snorted softly at the idea and pressed back, just a bit, with his knee.

“Well, I think it’s nice that you boys found each other,” Lizzie added, smiling.

“Oh! How did you meet, anyway?” Rosalie asked. Someone was bound to eventually, but it still gave Cullen pause. How could they describe the… circumstances under which they met without dragging up all that unpleasant business from the past?

“Well…” he began, but couldn’t find a way to finish that. _I was practically homeless and playing for tips at a subway station, you see_ was hardly fitting for the dinner table, and certainly not the romantic story he knew his little sister was after.

\----

It didn’t take a psychic to know that Cullen wouldn’t want his family to hear about what he’d been _doing_ when they met. Though, at least, the short version was better than ‘we met at a club and went home together’ that a lot of people had. Dorian smiled, something small and kind of private, and he actually reached out slowly to rest his hand over Cullen’s. Maybe it would be alright. He still watched his parents’ faces to make sure they didn’t frown or... get angry.

“I swept him off his feet on the train platform,” Dorian offered, and looked up into those beautiful amber eyes, “we sort of did the ‘I see you every day’ thing, and then I bought him a coffee and asked him out.”

\----

Cullen’s heart jumped as Dorian's hand reached out for his own. _Good. This is good. Don't mess this up._ Then he looked over at Dorian, saw that little smile, and he practically melted in his chair. _Maker's breath, he's beautiful._ Not that Cullen had forgotten that, but right now, despite everything that had happened before, he was struck by it the same as if a lightning bolt had hit him. Cullen smiled a little smile of his own, and felt the telltale heat on his face that told him he was likely a little pinker than he had been moments before.

To hear Dorian's version, one would think the way they met was romantic. Under all the shit that had been going on, Cullen supposed it was. Two people, so very different, meeting and… eventually… falling in love. It was the stuff of romantic movies and dime store novels when you put that spin on it.

“Of course, at the time, I didn't know you were asking me out _out_ ,” Cullen returned.

“I believe it. Clueless to the last, my son,” Lizzie laughed.

“I wasn’t aware ‘can I take you to coffee?’ meant anything else,” he pointed out, then blushed a bit. Not that Cullen’s parents would want to hear that, he had a feeling. “But... that was how it happened,” he amended with a shrug.

“And from what I hear,” Mia interrupted, though she looked over to the side as the waitress came with the first round of trays for their food, “ah, Dorian’s got a bit of sweetheart in him. Cullen was all wet-eyed about how he asked him to move in.”

\----

 _Maker, I am never going to live this down._ Cullen thought as he looked over at Dorian. _Sorry_ he mouthed. But it was true. It had been rather… touching.

“And now you have to tell _that_ story,” Rosie prompted as she rested her chin on her balled hands and leaned in, “On with it.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Cullen teased, “But basically, my keys had gone missing...” he paused for a moment as realization struck him between the eyes. He turned to Dorian then, a wry smile on his face, “... _you_ took my keys. And then said _I_ was getting old and forgetting things.” He shook his head. “Nice.”

\----

Dorian chuckled, “You did _actually_ leave your keys, though,” he pointed out, “I just used that to my advantage.” He smiled, “It was that or try to do it when you were asleep or something.” Despite the fact that he was holding Cullen’s hand, Dorian pressed his leg in a bit more against Cullen’s under the table. That closeness helped the nerves that still made his hand shake a little.

\----

“Fine, fine, I’m an old man,” Cullen replied, rolling his eyes for show and waving a hand.

“Watch it, son, if you’re old, what does that make us?” Lizzie warned with a raised eyebrow, but her face was soft.

“Ah, sorry mom,” Cullen answered, sheepish, before continuing, “Anyway, we were _supposed_ to limit ourselves to one thing each, but _someone_ likes to bend the rules a bit.”

His hand went to the metal pick that hung from a leather cord around his neck, something he’d done just that afternoon after he’d packed his things. Mia had had an old necklace that she let him cannibalize, and he’d used Will’s tools to carefully punch a small hole in the top of the pick. He attached it to the cord with a clip - that way, he could simply unclip the pick from the cord if he wanted to use it. The kids had watched the whole thing, commenting on his work until he’d begged Mia to _please_ find them something to do. The whole thing had taken an hour, and then he and Bran had left to drop Cullen and all of his worldly belongings off at his new home.

With a start, Cullen realized he hadn’t shown Dorian what he’d done with the pick. Not that he’d had a chance yet, but still. He was suddenly nervous, hoping that Dorian wouldn’t mind the small hole he’d had to punch out... but really, this was the only thing to do with it - the only thing that would always keep the pick warm and safe against his skin as a reminder of how far they’d come.

“He got me this,” he said as he pulled the pick out from under his shirt. He cast an unsure look Dorian’s way, “I hope you don’t mind the, ah, modification.”

\----

One of Dorian’s eyebrows cocked. When he’d bought the pick there had been talk that it would make a good pendant, which he’d agreed with, but he’d never really expected Cullen to go for that. Dorian had just assumed it would float around in his guitar case, or would hopefully be put somewhere it wouldn’t get too scratched, but not that he’d want to _wear_ it. It was... well, it was surprising, but in a very good way. “Why would I mind?” he asked, and lifted the hand not holding Cullen’s to inspect it. His fingers brushed along the ‘3’ and Dorian smiled to himself a little.

“What’s it say?” Bran asked as he leaned up a bit, “or is that just the light?”

\----

“It's, ah, a 3,” Cullen answered with a crooked little grin. “It's the platform number where we met.” He thought it a little funny that he was explaining this, since he'd been so obtuse and had to have it practically explained to him. Truth be told, he still felt a little bad for that, but in those days… the only thing that stood out to him about that station was _Dorian._

“Oh, Maker, you two are _adorable_ ,” Rosie all but squealed.

Cullen could hear Dorian sniff beside him, and he chuckled. “Hardly, but back to the keys…”

“That you thought you'd lost, but Dorian had them,” Rosie prompted.

“Yes, exactly... Hard to finish a story with all these _interruptions_ ,” Cullen cast a look Rosie’s way.

“Sorry, sorry!” She said and then ran her fingers across her closed mouth. _My lips are sealed._

That got a good laugh from the table. Time would tell how long that would last. “Indeed. Well, we'd exchanged our gifts, you know, but Dorian had one more,” he took a long swallow of beer. It was kind of fun, making Rosie wait. She was buzzing in her chair across the way. He leaned back, enjoying the attention, oddly enough. “So he gets out this box, and I unwrap it. And there's my copy of the house key.”

\----

At that, Stanton just reached out and took Lizzie’s hand to rub his thumb over her fingers. He was smiling, though not terribly wide, and watched with interest as Cullen spoke. He caught his wife’s gaze and gave an almost imperceptible nod toward the two. He hadn’t seen Cullen smile like that in more years than he cared to count, and knew that seeing their oldest boy so happy after so much trouble made Lizzie happier than anything.

“Cullen wrote a song for him too,” Mia offered as she nudged Rosie and gestured toward them, “these two, am I right?”

Dorian was blushing, blushing darker than he ever had, and he was suddenly terribly interested in his steak. Like Cullen’s parents, he was rubbing his thumb along the edge of Cullen’s hand as the other man spoke. He was a bit worried, if only because he wasn’t terribly sure anyone really wanted to hear the ins and outs of how and what they’d done to come together like they had, but the memory of his nerves was still pressing on his mind. 'Sweet' had never been in anyone’s vocabulary when it came to him, and he was a bit worried that Cullen was painting a picture that he wouldn’t be able to live up to. Aloof and slightly agitated was easy; sweet and caring never really came up before. Not with anyone else.

\----

“Mia, really… you, too?” Cullen sighed dramatically. This was, Maker, this was like old times. He knew better than to fall down the trap of thinking it _was_ old times, but it was close enough. It was close enough to feel like he had his family back... and he did, he supposed. There were scars there, sure, but it sure felt like they were healing.

And there was that hand on his, softly running a thumb over his fingers this whole time. Yes, healing… into something better. Stronger.

“I _did_ write a song, but it’s hardly relevant,” he continued, “... and before you ask, _Rosie_ , no, I will not sing it.”

“I didn’t say anything!” she protested.

“But you were going to. I saw that look in your eye,” Cullen said, “But yes, my key was there, and of course, I had to ask what it meant, and he told me, and here we are.”

Cullen rushed through the ending. There were things they didn’t need to know, after all, and the words the two of them had shared - _you know I love you, right? -_ weren’t for anyone’s ears other than their own. He took another drink of his beer, quite aware that his ears were red by now, and smiled over at Dorian, flipping his hand to tangle their fingers together. “... and here we are.”

Lizzie watched her son, caught up in pride and happiness. And, yes, a little sadness was there, tucked away, for what he’d gone through to get here… and even for the person who was missing tonight, Maker rest her soul. Still, the way Cullen’s face was lit up and how he fell into the cadence of their conversation as if he’d never left… well, she’d thanked Dorian earlier, and she was going to do it again and again until the man believed she was sincere. For now, she just watched, smiling softly, heart warmed at having her family gathered around the table, all of them... even the skittish newcomer with his suit and his posh accent and his obvious love for her son.

\----

There was a brief pause after Cullen stopped speaking, and Stanton squeezed Lizzie’s hand once before he cleared his throat and picked up his glass, “Well, in light of all that,” he began, “I think it might be time to toast having everyone here.” Brown eyes cut a quick glance toward Dorian and Cullen, then back to the middle, “And I mean _all of you_.”

Dorian let out a soft breath for that and squeezed Cullen’s hand, “Uh, yes,” he agree and picked up his beer with his other hand, “I’m... very glad to be here.”

\----

Lizzie beamed as she raised her glass, “I'll drink to that. To everyone together.”

Bottles and glasses clinked around the table, accompanied by smiles all around. Rosie giggled as she had to stand to reach Cullen and Dorian. “Dad, you're such a sweetheart,” she laughed as she sat back down.

For his part, Stanton just coughed and scratched at the back of his neck, flushing but pleased.

Cullen grinned and squeezed Dorian's hand right back before starting in on his food. It was getting cold by now, but he didn't really mind. He was surrounded by the people he loved most… lucky to have enough to count them on both hands, even now. Cold mashed potatoes were nothing in the face of that.

\----

The conversation dimmed a bit as they ate, though Bran did look up and grin, “So does this mean it’s Cullen’s turn to help in the kitchen for the big party this year?” he asked, “since he’s not had to do it for... way too long? We can just take off and you can handle it, right?”

Mia smiled, “I wouldn’t mind the help, you know,” she pointed out, “since you’re the only one I can count on to not set the rolls on fire…” and turned to look pointedly at Rosie, “two years in a row.”

\----

“Hey!” Rosie said though a mouthful of salad, “It's not _my_ fault I'm not used to your dumb temperature system here any more.”

“Rosie goes to school in Orlais,” Cullen explained to Dorian, “Which she likes to remind people as often as she can, it seems.”

He straightened up then and caught Mia’s eye. “Of course, I'll help. Your rolls are safe with me. But, Bran, you better _believe_ you're not getting out of cleaning duty. We cook, you clean. That's always been the rule.”

Lizzie laughed at this eternal argument her children had going. For a moment, she saw them all as they were so many years ago, the youngest two scrambling to get away from the table as soon as dinner was over and the eldest stamping their feet with how _unfair_ it was. “Sad to say, he's right, Bran. On the bright side, Mandy’ll be there to help you. Won't it be sweet to be so domestic? We could put it on a card, I think, the two of you washing dishes.”

\----

“Ah yes, the requisite Midwinter card for the next year,” Dorian chuckled as he speared a piece of broccoli with his fork, “but, ah... sorry, Rosalie, are you studying at the University of Orlais?” He smiled again then, “Any chance you’d know a Professor Kenric, perhaps? Or an Yvette Montilyet?”

“Is this the Art History portion of the evening?” Mia asked with a grin, “here I thought we might get away without a lesson.”

\----

“I’ve heard of Professor Kenric, of course, but Yvette?!” Rosie breathed with delight, ignoring her sister’s jab, “Are you kidding me? You know _my_ Yvette? We’ve been friends since sophomore year in undergrad! We had a class together... mmmm, art and propoganda, I think... really cool stuff... and she was there and we’ve been friends ever since.” She finally paused for a breath before asking, “How do you know her?”

\----

“Her older sister is my boss, actually,” Dorian answered, then chuckled a little, “well, one of them. Kenric is a client of mine. If you take one of his classes, sometimes he invites me up to do a lecture. Usually it goes over pretty well.” Maker, he felt... comfortable. Not completely, but definitely more than he had when he sat down. Cullen’s family, with their bickering and little jokes and everything, had actually managed to somewhat quiet his mother’s invisible presence behind him. It was completely foreign to him, but he was _enjoying_ this. “If I’m up there I’ll have to make sure to see you,” he went on, “Yvette’s always good fun to spend time with. I have a feeling she’s gunning for the head of our archives position when she graduates, and I can only imagine Josephine’s going to lose her mind if she gets it.”

“Was she the one you said you went to that opera thing with?” Bran asked, “with the fireworks inside? Sounds _nuts_.”

\----

Cullen’s little sister was humming with excitement, likely filled to the brim with questions she was burning to ask. He couldn't help but smile as he worked on his dinner. The rest of the evening could very well become the Dorian and Rosie show if they weren't careful, but even if it did… so what? This sort of spreading warmth, joy that Dorian was making a real connection with one of his family members, it was worth it.

And then Bran mentioned the opera, and his ears perked up.

“I studied those, you know. Well, I took one class. They seemed more spectacle than musicianship,” he laughed a bit, “I only took that class because Ella did… that was more her thing... but it was interesting.”

The table went quiet, and for a moment, Cullen wondered if he'd said something wrong. Eyes that had just been smiling were now on him, sad and searching.

_Maker's breath. Ella. Damn, leave it to me to completely fuck this up._

Still… he'd thought of her. He'd said her name, and it didn't twist ice in his veins the way it once did. There was a strange sort of bittersweet pain, he imagined there always would be, and that was ok... but that was it. No wave of panic. No drowning feeling, like he'd been sucked under into a life, a _person_ that he wasn't meant to be. _No guilt._

He _was_ who he was meant to be.

\----

Dorian was the first to turn and study Cullen’s face. He was learning to map the other man’s moods, his emotions, and often knew when it was going to be a rougher kind of time, or when it really was just a passing mention. It had always been a priority for him that Cullen didn’t feel like he couldn’t speak of his wife. Dorian rarely prodded, but it wasn’t as if he expected Cullen to forget her existence, or the existence of anything before them. This didn’t seem like one of those times where he might move into something more upset. The tiredness in his eyes wasn’t there, nor was the furrowed brow. So he put down his fork and reached a hand out to rest on Cullen’s knee. Something supportive but not pandering. “That would explain the virtuosos in the shower, then,” he offered, hoping a tease might break the tension at the table.

At the mention of Ella, Stanton cast a quick glance around. He could remember Cullen, miserable and completely standoffish at that last Midwinter dinner they’d seen him, and just how lost and alone he looked. He’d never seen any of his kids in such a way before, never wanted to again, and to see Cullen be able to mention her name and it _not_ necessarily be a game over situation had to mean that things were... on track. Perhaps not completely better, but on track.

“You always were the type to take classes or... what was it? Go to an art house auction? Just to impress people?” Mia offered, taking Dorian’s cue to tease a little, “wasn’t the reason you ended up in music class because you had a crush on one of the girls in grade school?”

\----

That hand on his knee was warm, and it calmed him down. It was astonishing, really, that Cullen was more upset about bringing the mood down than an errant memory of his wife, but that was what he’d been working toward, right? To not feel… haunted? It was a relief, really, to finally be able to think about those parts of his past without choking.

“I..” Cullen started, and then cleared his throat to smooth his voice, “I don’t remember it that way. Perhaps you’re thinking of Bran? That sounds more like Bran to me.”

“No, no, dear,” Lizzie corrected, “That was definitely you. Little Mary Lavellan. There was a brief obsession with piano because of her, if I recall.”

“There was a brief ‘obsession with piano’ because that’s all they had in the music room,” Cullen grumbled back. “... and I wasn’t aware that you could hear me in the shower,” he added, perhaps a little petulantly. For all the times Dorian had heard him play… the thought of him overhearing Cullen singing in the shower was somehow embarrassing.

\----

Dorian chuckled and squeezed Cullen’s knee, “The neighbors can hear you in the shower, amatus,” he teased warmly before he went back to his steak.

With a jab of his fork toward Cullen Bran chuckled, “Oh no, we’re not pinning that one on me either,” he laughed, “you made moon eyes at her for five years.”

“Mary sat next to me on the bus,” Mia mimicked in a sing-song voice, “Mary wants to be partners in social studies, I’m going to ask Mary to the dance.”

“Oh please tell me there are pictures of this,” Dorian ventured, “if he was so smitten, it must have been serious.”

Mia nodded, “Oh it was,” she agreed before she took a drink from her glass, “I remember at that first dance. We were what... sixth grade? Cullen’s got that boy-band gelled up hair and black button-down thing happening, right, and there’s of course the _slow dance_ portion, and when he tapped her on the shoulder to ask, I thought he was going to faint on the spot. So he’s just standing there all open mouthed, and she’s got all those glittery butterfly pins in her hair, and he just says ‘I like your glitter butterflies’ and practically _ran away_.”

Dorian grinned and turned back to look at Cullen, “Young love, hm?”

\----

“Something like that, apparently.”

The little spark of pleasure Cullen always felt when Dorian called him that - _amatus -_ was dashed out as soon as Mia opened her mouth to tell, of all things, the damn 'glitter butterfly' story. He pushed his half-eaten plate of food back and put his head in his hands. If it wasn't a social faux-pas for a grown man to hide under the table at a restaurant, he would have. Not his best moment, in other words. He'd never been the type of person who could be described as smooth, but that was a low… even for him. But it's not like Mia hadn't had her share of awkward crushes. Most everyone did, after all. For many, it was part of growing up.

He raised his head, eyes narrowed a bit and a smirk playing at his lips. “I have two words for you,” he said to his sister as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, “Nathan. Howe.”

_Gotcha._

\----

Maker, but there was something adorable about Cullen’s pink ears and being so embarrassed by these childhood stories. Dorian swapped his fork to his other hand and ran his free one along Cullen’s back. That didn’t stop him from laughing, of course, which the others joined in on, and when Cullen put it back toward Mia he looked over with all the smiles and laughter as the others.

“We don’t talk about Nathan Howe,” Bran cut in, “just don’t. I’ve never seen a girl have more emotional breakdowns.”

Mia whapped Bran in the shoulder then, “I did not!” she crowed.

“Am I going to need to turn this pub around, kids?” Stanton asked warmly, “or send one of you out to the car like we used to do?”

While Bran and Mia squabbled a bit, Dorian leaned in and pressed a kiss to Cullen’s shoulder. A lot of that tension was melting away, slowly but surely, and he nuzzled his face affectionately in against the soft material of Cullen’s shirt, “Thank you,” he murmured so only Cullen would hear. The hand still resting on his back moved to rest on his furthest shoulder, and Dorian leaned into the slightly awkward embrace, “for letting me come to this.”

\----

While Mia and Bran kept everyone else entertained, Lizzie’s focus was on her eldest child. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Dorian moved closer, speaking words meant only for Cullen's ear. She saw her son soften and turn to lean his forehead against Dorian's for just a moment, returning words just as low with a smile on his face… one that he hadn't shown the world in so long. This was… this was _her son_. He was finally _himself_ in a way he hadn't been for so long. Well, that wasn't exactly right, he wasn't the _same_ man, but he _was_ himself. It was a strange thought, but, at the same time, it felt right. And he'd found someone who let him be… well, who just let him be. As the argument died down and the moment between Cullen and Dorian passed, she patted at her eyes with her napkin, smiling happily as she laughed, “Oh, children, is _this_ what your dear old mother has to look forward to at the big dinner?”

\----

“Pretty much,” Bran answered.

“Only with more of Aunt Ruth getting a bit tipsy on the pink wine,” Mia pointed out, “speaking of, I’m starting on taking bets for when the story about how Uncle Edward got them stranded on the side of the road on their anniversary comes out.”

“Who won last year?” Stanton asked.

Mia thought on that for a moment, “I think mom did,” she mused, “but that wasn’t fair because someone else brought it up. It doesn’t count unless she starts ranting about it on her own.”

It seemed as though this big dinner really was a spectacle, and Dorian cocked an eyebrow as he listened. He didn’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins to tell crazy stories about or take bets on, though it did seem a bit like a production. It would certainly be, if this dinner was anything to go by, absolutely insane. “Do you usually make bets about your family?” he asked.

Bran nodded, “Keeps things interesting,” he answered, “and gives us something to talk about other than when someone’s having another baby or getting married. That got old after, like, three years.”

\----

Cullen was still warmed by Dorian’s touch and his words, and his heart was light as he laughed at his siblings.

“Don't even start,” Rosie warned, “You don't get it _half_ as bad as I do. Remember when cousin Bethany had her baby? Yeah, right into my arms. I wasn't even _seeing_ anyone.”

“That's putting the cart before the horse a bit,” Cullen snorted. He knew her pain though. They'd done it to him every year after he'd married Ella. “So, will everyone be there, then?”

\----

A chuckle, and then Stanton nodded, “This year everyone will be, yes,” he agreed and smiled over at Cullen, “we’ve...not said much, didn’t want to stir everyone up. They’ll be glad to see you, though.”

“Oh, man,” Bran interrupted, “do you think you could make that... what even was it? You remember those spicy... were they cashews? You brought them one year and they were awesome. Better than the usual chips and everything.”

“Hey!” Mia groused, “I slaved for minutes over those bags, you know.”

\----

“ _Cashews?_ ” Cullen asked, thinking back to the various things he'd hauled up to his parents’ house and then Mia’s for Midwinter dinners past. “Oh, you mean that trail mix? It has cashews in. Haven't made it in years, but it's pretty easy to make. I'll do up a big batch and we can snack on it before everyone gets there,” he paused, “You know, while I'm _not_ catching rolls on fire.”

“Do you think Beth will bring that horrible pear salad stuff _again_?” Rosie asked with a shudder, “You'll be horrified, Dorian. It's just… pear halves with a glop of _mayonnaise_ in the center and _cheddar cheese_ and a _cherry_. Who _eats_ that?”

\----

While that did sound particularly heinous, what stuck out more was the fact that it wasn’t even a _question_ about this family dinner situation. No one had asked ‘hey, are you coming to this thing?” not even Cullen, but it was just... assumed. Normally, that spelled bad things. The fact that Cullen’s family just figured he’d be joining them? Well, Rosalie anyway. Dorian couldn’t quite tell what the others thought. Cullen’s father was nearly unreadable, and he figured Mia would go with whatever flow they decided on. That was a Rutherford- and family-only situation, and while Dorian was _with_ Cullen, he _wasn’t_ family.

“Er, sounds... terrible, actually,” he agreed, though it came out a bit stammered and he cast a quick look to Cullen. _What do I say_? he wanted to know. Agreeing would make it look like he was, in fact, just stepping into their family get together. Not agreeing would maybe make him look just as shitty as knocking over the glass before. He’d never navigated anything like this before.

\----

And suddenly, that tenseness was hanging over Dorian again. Cullen could feel the man's mind working from where he sat next him, and he knew why. He'd assumed Mia understood that tonight was _in lieu_ of forcing Dorian to meet the entire Rutherford clan, aunts, uncles, kids, and all, at the big dinner. Apparently, that message wasn't clear… or if it was, she hadn't communicated it out to everyone.

It was… a delicate situation. Cullen _wanted_ Dorian there - he always wanted Dorian near him - but the extended family… Dorian had admitted that might be a little too much now, and Cullen could respect that. Cullen himself was still nervous about the family gathering, and he wished that maybe they _would_ tell everyone he was going to be there, if only to avoid the big to do when aunts and uncles and cousins saw him there. Plus, well, his immediate family had clearly decided to let bygones be bygones, but who knew what everyone else would be thinking. His cousin, Kevin, came to mind - they'd never gotten along, and he could just imagine… _No. Stop that._ He shook his head and smiled, the slightest tinge of apology around his eyes.

“Actually, Dorian may not be able to join us,” Cullen started, meeting Dorian's grey-eyed gaze and moving a hand to squeeze his knee in a way that he hoped was comforting. “Though I'm _sure_ you'll be missed. If you can't come.”

There, Dorian could safely choose one way or the other later, without having to commit right this very moment in front of his whole family. Cullen prayed that helped.

“Boo,” Rosie grumped and then smiled.

“Hush, Rosie,” Lizzie spoke up, “And you're more than welcome to come, my dear… if you can, we'd love to have you.”

\----

“I”m sure I could figure something out,” he offered, and reached down to take Cullen’s hand again. Being invited made him feel less weird about it than just assuming it was alright for him to go. “It sounds like I’ll miss out otherwise.”

“We’ll protect you anyway,” Mia promised, “just push a grandkid at someone, and they’ll usually be distracted enough you can run. It works most of the time.

Bran snorted, “Yeah, just hold one up like a shield and book it.”

\----

“Branson Lee Rutherford!” Lizzie snapped, failing to suppress a grin, “That is just awful!”

“Oooo, mom broke out the full name. You’re in trouble now,” Rosie sang gleefully.

Cullen just laughed and shook his head, squeezing Dorian's hand back. He was surprised, pleasantly, that Dorian just said he'd come. Sort of. It wasn't firm, but it was a far cry from the terror he'd been crawling with over just this dinner earlier. What a difference a meal made.

Cullen arched an eyebrow. “... but his strategy is sound,” he said thoughtfully and shot a grin Dorian's way.

\----

“Good strategy as it is, I don’t think any of you should trust me to hold a child,” Dorian admitted, “I don’t... no, I’m reasonably sure I never have before, and I’d hate to break one. Someone told me a while ago they’re pretty expensive, and return policies get a bit dicey after age, what... five or so?”

That made Mia actually snort into her drink and she started laughing, “I think I told Will that exact thing when Gwen was born.”

\----

“Oh, they'll all pile on top of me, anyway,”  Cullen replied, feigning misery. “I have no idea why…”

“It's your face,” Rosie replied matter-of-factly, “It just screams ‘I will play horsey for hours.’ You look entirely too friendly.”

“It does not,” Cullen replied, indignant.

\----

Dorian turned to look back up at Cullen and smiled, “Well, she’s right about the looking friendly,” he pointed out, “it’s part of what made me want to talk to you the first time, you know?”

Across the table, Bran made over-exaggerated gagging sounds, “Love at first sight, yeah yeah.”

“Don’t even,” Mia warned, “do we need to go over trying to make you come up for air before we left?”

\----

“My children… get them all together, and suddenly they're 12 again,” Lizzie threw up her hands in defeat… but she loved it. She loved the laughter and the jokes and, yes, even the little jabs. She loved how _complete_ her family felt tonight… for far too long, there was a break in her little circle, a gap that could only be filled by her oldest son. And now her circle was repaired, unbroken, and maybe expanding, if she was reading the way Cullen and Dorian looked at each other correctly… and she was pretty sure she had a good read on things. It warmed her heart, and whatever happened at Midwinter dinner - burnt rolls or pear salad or toddler shields - she'd already gotten all she wanted. Her _family_.

She was beaming around the table, when a voice above her drew her out of her own little happy world.

“Did you guys save some room for dessert, or is it time for the check?”

\----

Stanton chuckled, “I think the check should be fine, I’ll take it.”

“It’s been handled,” Dorian offered, and looked up at the waitress, “thank you.” He squeezed Cullen’s hand again and smiled a little. When he’d made the reservation earlier that day he’d left his card number with the host so it could be taken care of without making things awkward. This had been for him, this little meal, and he was more than happy to take care of it.

\----

“Dorian, that’s too much, honey!” Lizzie interjected, “Let us help.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow and cut a smirk over at Dorian. “Full of surprises, I see,” he chuckled. It was a nice gesture, and of course Dorian would do something like this. He spared a look at his parents to see how they were handling it. They could get sensitive over things like this, and the last thing he wanted was for Dorian to feel bad for doing something so nice. “I wouldn’t fight too much, mom. He’s stubborn, this one.”

“... if you’re sure?” she asked.

\----

He held up a hand, “Please, let me,” Dorian told her, “you guys came all the way out here to see us, and it would make me very happy to treat you to dinner.” He squeezed Cullen’s hand once before he let go and reached out to take Cullen’s mother’s in his other one, “it can be my Midwinter gift since I have absolutely no idea what to get any of you.”

For that, Stanton caught Cullen’s gaze and nodded. It wasn’t his favorite, but clearly this was something bigger than just a check, and he was happy enough to have someone make a nice gesture like that. It was a rare sort of thing. “Well, why don’t we continue this outside so they can clean up a bit?” he offered, “then we can plan out the next couple of days.”

\----

Cullen blinked once and then again as he watched Dorian take his mother’s hand - actually _take_ it… and with ease, like it was something he did all the time. Shock gave way to a sort of bliss that he couldn’t hide, so he wore it on his face and didn’t even try. This was… Maker, this was so much more than he could have hoped for, even before that mishap with the water glass had Dorian running scared. He leaned his head on his hand and watched Dorian’s face as he spoke… and was reminded again just how beautiful this man was, inside and out. That hand and this dinner… Cullen knew it was so much more than it seemed. He knew the obstacles Dorian had to overcome to open up like this, he knew them very well, and he just… he couldn’t have been more _proud_ or thankful to love - and be loved by - one Dorian Pavus.

They all stood to go, and Cullen moved to help Dorian with his coat. As Dorian shrugged it on, Cullen took the opportunity to smooth his hands down both arms and step forward, moving in close enough to murmur into Dorian’s ear, “Thank you, love.” His voice was cast low and his tone was sincere, “You being here… it means more than I can say.”

\----

Dorian leaned a bit into Cullen and took his hand, “Happy to be,” he murmured back and cast a quick glance backward at where Cullen’s parents and siblings were getting their coats, then leaned up and kissed one scruffy cheek, “I’m glad I came.” He nuzzled his face in just under Cullen’s jaw and smiled. There wasn’t much better, he was convinced, than when Cullen would call him ‘love.’ He’d been a little wary of it at first, if only because pet names usually meant someone being condescending, but... there was something about that Fereldan lilt and how sincere Cullen sounded when he said it. It made Dorian’s heart flutter.

“So are you coming over tomorrow?” Mia asked Cullen as she tucked a scarf around her neck, “I don’t know what we’re doing but we can find something to get into, probably.”

“We could,” Dorian offered, “that might be nice.”  

\----

“I'm sure there’ll be a lot of prep happening,” Cullen added as they walked out into the crisp night air. “If we make it out your way, I'll help.”

 _We._ Cullen rather liked the thought of both of them going out to help get ready for a huge family dinner. He liked it a lot. In his head, he saw a picture of Mia and him working in the kitchen with Dorian and Rosie chatting over coffee at the counter, probably stealing bites here and there in the name of “quality assurance”. It was all very normal and _domestic_ and just… warm in a way Cullen didn’t think he’d ever have in his life again. Yet here it was, and he was so grateful. For everything, even the bad parts. And wasn't that the point of the season, really? To take stock, to accept the bad and appreciate the good and just be _thankful_.

He knew he was being sappy, but Cullen couldn't help the _dopey_ grin plastered on his face.

“Please, come save me from Bran and Mandy going mushy over each other, like, every 30 seconds,” Rosie said as she hugged Cullen goodbye and kissed Dorian on the cheek. _How very Orlesian,_ Cullen thought with a chuckle.

His mother's arms were around him then. “I'm so happy you're _here_ ,” she whispered, a little hoarsely for the emotion in her voice, as she kissed his cheek. “... and he's a good one, that Dorian. I'm happy for you, son.”

Lizzie then turned to Dorian. She hesitated only a moment, remembering how he'd been a bundle of raw nerves earlier. _Ah, he'll learn,_ she thought as she gave him a hug, too. Elizabeth “Lizzie” Rutherford had always been a hugger, after all. “Thank you for taking care of my boy.” Her parting words for Dorian were heartfelt, and she squeezed his hand before she turned to join her family.

It had been a _good_ night.


	6. Maybe Marry Me [1 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen and Dorian make plans for the evening.

Nerves were a part of life. They were normal. They were healthy. They made a statement about being concerned for one’s well being. It was like a natural response to change. Fun and lively as he could be, Dorian actually didn’t like change all that much. He liked it when things stayed in their neat and orderly way and he could be comfortable. He’d always said that going out of his comfort zone should only ever happen when it had to. Off-hand he could only think of a handful of times it had ever happened.

They’d been living together for over a year, which was about the last time Dorian had felt quite like this. Well, no, Dorian felt a healthy dose of nerves every time he went with Cullen to a family gathering. He loved Cullen’s immediate family, of course, but the whole clan was still a little... much. They were great, but they were so _welcoming_ and _nice_ that it was overwhelming. Since that first Midwinter, they’d pretty much welcomed him into the family fold with little prompting. Well. Other than that one cousin of Cullen’s that gave them the stink eye, they were all welcoming.

These nerves were different, though. These were giant Life’s About To Change nerves. Those were different to Dinner At Mia’s With Mom And Dad nerves. These nerves ramped up every time he pulled the small box he’d picked up from a specialty jeweler out from where he was hiding it in the pocket of one of his work suits. Those were the only ones they didn’t handle for laundry, dry clean only of course, so Cullen would have no reason to look through the pockets. In the last two weeks, Dorian would pull that box out, open it, and stare at the contents while Cullen was at work almost every chance he had.

He hadn’t had a plan when he had the ring commissioned. Dorian had just known he wanted it. These last two weeks had been nothing but a panic and worrying about the hows and whys and whens, and it was driving him insane. Surely... surely it didn’t really matter. If Cullen loved him, and he did, then how and when and where didn’t matter. So long as they were together. Worrying was only making his panic act up a little, despite having thought long and hard about all this. He’d figure something out. Mostly he had, he just needed... well, the actual moment. Flying by the seat of his pants on this _wasn’t_ how he wanted to go, but maybe that wasn’t so bad. He’d asked Cullen to be something serious on a whim, more or less, and it had turned out well enough.

They’d slept in, which had been a lovely morning of staying curled up in bed together, and had a bit of a late brunch. Dorian had insisted on champagne cocktails, he’d said just because they had it and why the fuck not, but he’d wanted to start the day in a celebratory way. Even if Cullen didn’t know it. It was the small things like that, just enjoying their time together, that Dorian took a lot of care to do. He always wanted Cullen to know he enjoyed them just being together just as much as he enjoyed the shows at the studio or a bar, the parties for work, or even the family gatherings.

He came up behind the couch where Cullen was sitting and bent down so he could wind his arms around the other man’s shoulders and bury his face in his neck, “I’ve got a question for you,” Dorian prompted against Cullen’s earlobe before he nipped at it, “and it’s less of a question and more of a statement.”

\----

That morning was leisurely and warm, which was just how Cullen liked them, really. One of the most important lessons he'd learned nearly two years ago when he'd broken down and admitted he needed help - actual professional help - was to just slow down and actually _appreciate_ the good in his life for what it was rather than miss the moment worrying when it would go sour. And mornings like this, Cullen had decided, were definitely _good_. Lazy mornings and late brunches in and just time together with Dorian, small things like that, were high on his list of favorites these days. He counted himself truly fortunate that they had so much of that now that their lives had settled together.

The warmth of Dorian’s arms and softness of his voice drew Cullen from his reflections. He grinned and reached a hand up to grab one of the arms slung around his shoulders. “Then ask… or _state_ … away,” Cullen replied with more than a little curiosity.

\----

“So... one of the archivists at the auction house is actually having a showing at this amazing gallery just outside the city,” Dorian began, “it’s in an old Chantry, and the whole installation’s going to have music to it, and from what I’ve heard, it’s going to be pretty fantastic. I said I’d stop in for a while and have a look.”

A slow smile touched his features and Dorian turned to nibble at Cullen’s earlobe and tug at it with his teeth, “and I was hoping you’d come with me. I think you’d like it. It’s not a work thing, so nothing... terribly fancy. It’s a proper showing, and he’s all about these, admittedly scaled down, frescoes and they’re amazing to see up close. If you’re interested.”

\----

“Mmmmm… You keep doing that and we're not going anywhere anytime soon,” Cullen murmured as he leaned his head back, tilting it to the side to expose his neck, just a bit… a little invitation for Dorian to, yes, please _keep doing that._ He had to give it to the man; Dorian knew how to get his attention. Plus, Cullen was still warm and relaxed from the champagne they’d cracked open that morning, and Dorian’s… _affections_ were never unappreciated. The result was that Cullen had half a mind to pull the man over the back of the couch and… well, resume this conversation _later._

\----

Of course. Dorian chuckled and moved to kiss at _that_ spot just behind Cullen’s ear as he wound his arms more tightly around the other man’s neck, “It’s not until tonight,” he offered, “so we have plenty of time to relax until then. Please come with me?” Over the last year or so, he’d learned that sometimes he had to turn on the puppy face to really get what he wanted, and Dorian wasn’t ashamed to do so. “It’ll be fun.”

\----

And Dorian knew what buttons to push, didn't he? He should by now - Cullen had fallen prey to that ever-so-slightly pouty tone more than a few times, after all. And to kiss him _there_? Clearly, Dorian wanted him to go to this showing with him. Cullen would have agreed, all attempts to butter him up aside, if only to show Dorian that he wanted to learn more about his world. He even knew what a fresco was. Sort of. A smirk played at scarred lips, and Cullen laughed, “You can put that tone away; it's entirely unnecessary. Of course I'll come.” He turned his head and reached an arm up and back to pull Dorian in for a kiss, slow and heated - was he supposed to ignore what the man had been doing with his lips and teeth earlier? As he broke, he grinned again. “You had me at ‘there'll be music,’” he teased.

\----

He kissed Cullen for a long few moments. Yes, that was good. First step handled. It seemed normal, not like an out of the blue reservation or anything. That, and he loved the way Cullen kissed him after teasing him like that. It was Dorian’s favorite way to rile him up a bit. “I know,” he teased back and lifted his hands to tangle in the curls that had grown out just a bit. It was still shorter, still more professional than the shoulder-length, but had enough curl to it that Dorian could get his fingers in it. That was what he liked.

With a grin he moved over the back of the couch and dropped himself into Cullen’s lap so he could wind his arms more dramatically around his neck, “I hope you weren’t planning on moving too far until then, though,” Dorian teased, “because I quite like what we have at the moment.”

\----

This morning was just getting better and better. Cullen was more than happy to let the day unfold as it would, starting, it would seem, with a lapful of Dorian Pavus. At the moment, he was hard-pressed to think of a better way to be as he curled his arms around the man's waist and pressed light kisses to soft lips. “A shame,” he lamented with mock disappointment between those kisses, “I have such a long list of things to do today.”

\----

“And all of them include me, I have a feeling,” Dorian offered with a laugh as he kissed his way to Cullen’s throat and sucked a bit at his pulse, “but how do you feel about going out for the showing, then finding something for dinner? Nothing fancy, just whatever we find.”

He wanted to make the day seem as normal as possible. It wasn’t unusual for them to spend mutual days off going from couch to bed to shower, then back to bed to couch. Maker help them both, but they were how many years into all this and they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other? That had to bode well, right? Surely it did. That’s what Dorian was going to tell himself.

\----

This teasing was all well good, but Cullen could feel that spark of interest turning into a pressing need as those lips made their way down his neck. Dorian’s warm breath against sensitive skin made him shudder - it always did. He’d never get enough of this man, it seemed, and that was just fine. “Why,” he all but growled as he held Dorian more firmly and braced himself, “are we talking about dinner?” With that, he rocked forward and flipped Dorian onto his back on the couch. Cullen followed behind, teeth and tongue trailing along Dorian’s collarbone as the hand not bearing his weight ran up the man’s chest.

\----

Maker help him, this man was going to be the death of him. Of all the ways to go, though, this was the one Dorian wanted. He couldn’t think of a better way. Even now, hours later so they were both sweating and shaking and panting for breath, Dorian was all too happy to just melt against that warm skin and lose himself in Cullen. That was all he wanted, now and hopefully forever.

He turned and buried his face in Cullen’s chest, which was heaving just a little, and Dorian chuckled. It was always a nice feeling to know he’d reduced the man to whimpers and soft pleas and moaning. It made Dorian feel smug, incredibly so, and he pressed a kiss over Cullen’s heartbeat, “Going to make it?” he teased.

\----

“I may need a moment,” Cullen laughed softly as he just lay there, eyes closed, gaining his bearings and letting his mind come back into focus. Dorian made him go delightfully fuzzy around the edges, always had. Always would, he was sure. He loved it, the feeling of just being _safe_ enough to lose control a bit. It was what he needed, still, and Dorian gave it to him. Amongst other things.

The last of the fog cleared, and Cullen ruffled Dorian's sweat-dampened hair, “Old man, remember? Even though I'm only a year older than you.”

He just breathed for a while after that, letting his fingers knead into the muscles of Dorian's back, finding knots here and there and working them out. Cullen wasn't the only one to carry tension in his back, and he liked the feel of skin under his hands, anyway. He wanted this, moments like this, always. _This_ was what all the work they'd done was for. This warmth and safety and comfort. And love. He couldn't imagine anyone else beside him. Not now. Not ever. Crooking his head down, he pressed a gentle kiss to Dorian's forehead, “I love you, you know.”

\----

That made his heart flutter, both in happiness and in anticipation. Every time he heard it Dorian was that much more sure. Of course he was sure he knew Cullen’s answer, more or less, but hearing that boosted his confidence even more. “I love you too,” Dorian answered softly and tipped his chin up to catch those scarred lips, “you old man.” He was grinning against Cullen’s mouth and hugged himself in closer, “though you’re going to put me to sleep with all that.”

He practically purred for how Cullen massaged at his back, and Dorian closed his eyes, “Maker, that’s feels good right there.”

\----

“Does it, now?” Cullen asked and dug a little deeper at the spot he'd found, smiling at the way Dorian squirmed under his hands and over his body. “So, an evening of… frescoes, was it? Those are the ones with the plaster and paint, right?” Cullen had always had an appreciation for the arts, considering, but had been clueless about… everything Dorian was so passionate about. He hadn't even tried _before_ , but once they decided to start over, he decided to learn. And he had, a bit. It was one way he hoped he could show that he was in this for good.

His thoughts strayed then to… plans he'd been forming over the past few months. The plans themselves had been nebulous and shrouded in a giddy, nervous energy, but he had at least one concrete piece of evidence of them. It was sitting in his guitar case right now, wrapped in the soft cloth he used to clean the guitar. A trinket, yes, but so heavy with future hopes.

He was just waiting… for the right time. For those vague plans to solidify into something worthy of Dorian.

\----

Dorian groaned again and nuzzled at Cullen’s chest. “Big plaster canvases,” he agreed happily, “I can only imagine what he had to pay to have them moved.” The hand resting on Cullen’s hip smoothed lower so he could get a bit of a handful of the other man’s behind, “he’s shown me pictures of some of them and if they were, you know... not plaster and not huge, I would love to have some of his work. All very old Elven style.”

He smiled to himself, “I’m looking forward to it.” _For more reasons than you know_. Time seemed to be moving both like molasses and also like lightning. Then again, hours lost together were never bad. Still, Dorian wanted to hurry up and be there. He was more nervous than he’d ever been, but he wanted to _be there_ already. Of course he could do it now, use tonight to celebrate, but... no. No, he wanted to do this right. After sex didn’t feel right.

\----

“Oh, me too,” Cullen answered enthusiastically, “The _acoustics_ in those old chantrys are just…” Cullen shook his head, unable to describe it, and looked down at Dorian. There was a strange expression on the man’s face, and for a moment, Cullen wondered if it was because he’d shifted away from the art. “... and also the giant plaster canvases of Elven art. Yes. I’m looking forward to those, too.” Cullen cleared his throat before continuing , “... so what should I expect? Is this ‘not fancy’ for Dorian, or ‘not fancy’ for, you know, the general population of Thedas? Because I might have to do some laundry...”

\----

Cullen speaking stirred Dorian from his thoughts and he smiled, “Jeans and a nice shirt should be fine,” he chuckled before he leaned up for a kiss, “and yes, the music should be fantastic. Morrigan’s quite good on the guitar, from what I hear though I’ve only ever met her once. Apparently she and Solas work together from time to time. You ought to enjoy it. Maybe if you hit it off she’ll try to book you for a showing or something. Maker save my soul if that ever happens, by the way, I’d die of happiness.”

Of course Dorian loved seeing shows when Cullen had them, but to see him play at an art showing? Just the thought sent a thrill through him. “My three favorite things in one place: you, you singing, and art,” he mused, “I’d be floating, probably.”

\----

Cullen was doing his best to picture what the evening had in store for him. He'd been to a showing or two with Dorian before, but those had all been in galleries and very… well, other than the pieces themselves, it had been a little sparse. Clinical even. He suspected that was to highlight the artists’ work, which he enjoyed, but the white walls and uncomfortably aesthetic viewing benches had left much to be desired.

This, though… this sounded special. He'd had the pleasure of hearing a choir perform in one of the older chantrys when he was in college, and _that_ had been a religious experience for him. Thoughts of music reverberating off the walls, surrounded by what Dorian clearly thought was amazing works of art, the general ambiance of an old chantry… it was all sounding terribly _romantic_. Something shifted at that, and Cullen's fingers twitched over Dorian's bronze skin. His mind started pulling a plan together from that cloud full of nervous electricity that had hung over him since he'd started sneaking off to research and obsess over the thing he knew he wanted. He thought maybe the right time was upon him. Surely, nothing would be worthy of Dorian if this wasn't. It hadn't been Cullen's idea, no, but he hoped Dorian wouldn't mind him co-opting his event for this. Assuming the man appreciated this sort of thing at all. Assuming, if he did, he said yes.

With a start, Cullen realized he'd fallen silent as his mind tried to work out _how_ and _when_ and _sweet Maker, what if this isn't what Dorian wants._ “I'll just leave my guitar here, then, shall I? Can't have you dying or floating off… with happiness or otherwise,” Cullen chuckled and kissed the top of Dorian's head as he gave him a squeeze. “I'm two of your three favorite things, huh? Cute,” he teased. He did love it when Dorian balked at being called cute or sweet, but Maker, he was, if he knew it or not. He sighed happily and closed his eyes. They'd eventually have to get up and get showered, but a little early afternoon doze all curled up together was altogether too tempting. Not to mention how it soothed the nerves he'd ignited earlier. _Tonight. I should do it tonight._

\----

“You’re _most_ of my favorite things,” he teased back before he leaned in to nip at Cullen’s neck again, “easily top three of five.” At this point he’d given up arguing since it only ever seemed to make those crinkles around Cullen’s eyes go deeper when he did. Now he just rolled his eyes and sighed, which he did. Maker help him, he was so smitten with this man. Just... ridiculously so. Had been for so long. “But I’m going to have a shower before I don’t. You’ve completely mussed my hair, you know.”

Dorian slid out of bed and stretched, joints popping, before he turned back to smile at Cullen, “You stay there and look amazing, hm?” he asked before he bent back over and kissed Cullen’s lips. He smiled, something soft and more private between the two of them before he pressed a kiss on Cullen’s forehead, “I love you.”

\----

“I love you, too,” Cullen returned, smiling as he watched Dorian disappear into the bathroom. Maker help him, he loved the view, too. It was still amazing to him, even after all this time, that Dorian had somehow fallen for him, but there they were. And Cullen was greedy. He wanted more. _Tonight_.

Speaking of which…

When Cullen heard the water running and was reasonably certain that Dorian was committed to his lengthy shower-shave-style ritual, he rolled out of bed himself to pull on some pajama bottoms. That done, he snuck out into the living room, creeping slowly past the bathroom door. It was silly, he knew. There was no way Dorian would hear him walk by with the shower on, but he did it anyway.

The apartment had changed in the past year as the built a life together. The bones were the same. Art on the wall, stacks of papers and mail from Dorian’s work, the same furniture, but they’d added to it all as Cullen settled into his new home. There was the requisite extra storage - and, oh, the conversation about the closet and counter space in the bathroom had been interesting before they’d bought that extra storage - but there were other things, too. Dorian had sacrificed a few things to make room for him, and Cullen was grateful for it. Case in point, what had once been a nice little reading area tucked into a bay window had now been overrun with Cullen’s music gear. He spent many hours on the bench by the window, practicing or hunched over his laptop, headphones on and working on the simple editing projects Garrett sent him home with. There were pieces of him everywhere now. His music was currently spread out on one end of the little table they’d gotten just so their meals together wouldn’t feel so transient any more. His shoes were lined up next to Dorian’s at the door. His jackets were in the coat closet. It was his home now, completely.

But Cullen didn’t see all this as he made his way to the little nook where his guitar was. That had all become normal for him by now. No, what he was after was decidedly new. Definitely different. He looked around quickly, eyes darting to the bedroom door to make sure Dorian was still otherwise occupied, and popped the guitar case open. Cullen couldn’t have Dorian seeing him rooting through his case - while he could probably have come up with a decent reason, held rather avoid that altogether if he could. He wasn’t a very convincing liar, after all.

The little box that had been weighing on his mind earlier was there, just where he left it. For all the nerves he felt, he still managed a warm smile as he pulled it from his case and opened it just to have yet another peek at what was inside. As it had done each time he opened that box, Cullen’s stomach did flips and his face warmed. Maker, he knew this was what he wanted, but he was going to have to put himself out there to get it. It didn’t even matter that he’d had experience with this sort of thing before, it was still just as wonderful and nerve wracking as it had been the first time.

Back in the bedroom, Cullen spared another glance at the bathroom door, grateful that it remained closed, and slid the box down under all the random things that had accumulated in the drawer of his nightstand over the past year. There, it wouldn’t look strange for him to be rooting around in there before they left. He did it enough, and he could always claim he was looking for his keys, watch, anything. _I really should clean that drawer out,_ he thought with smile as he settled back into bed with his phone and waited for Dorian to finish showering.

\----

Under the spray of water, Dorian took a few moments to get himself together. Tonight. _Tonight, tonight, tonight._ Tonight Dorian was going to do the one thing he said he’d never do. He’d not told anyone... other than Felix. Felix had been beside himself, actually, though Dorian had sworn him to secrecy. No one could know about this, not until Dorian was ready. Of course, Felix had been thrilled, as he always was, and he’d asked the million questions that he always did. He’d been seeing a girl, a beautiful auburn haired thing named Allora who was another research assistant at the University, and they’d chatted a few times about relationships. It was such a change for Dorian to actually have something to say on the matter.

Tonight. Tonight had to be as perfect as Dorian could hope for. He wasn’t going to go in with too many expectations, because if he didn’t meet them, he knew he’d psyche himself out. No, Dorian wasn’t about to think too hard. Go, have an amazing time, and do it when it felt right. Whether that was as they were going, while they were there, or after... it didn’t matter. Dorian knew he would know. He trusted himself with that much.

So, he’d taken some extra time to get ready. That said, he didn’t go quite to the nines like he might have. He’d shaved, did his usual makeup on his eyes, but he didn’t quite go all out to oil his hair. Cullen liked it when it was still somewhat casual, after all, and Dorian wanted this to be... well, not a production. This was about them together. Dorian didn’t want it to be over the top.

When he was as done up as he was going to get, Dorian opened the door to the bedroom and grinned as he saw Cullen on his phone. Playfully, he draped himself against the doorframe - towel wrapped around his waist. “Hey there, handsome,” he teased, “looking for me?”

\----

Scarred lips parted slightly while amber eyes widened. _Maker, he's beautiful._ A breath later, and Cullen regained his composure as he continued tapping his phone, holding it up just a little higher than before. That open mouth turned into a slow grin and he replied, “Always,” as the shutter sound on his phone went off. He didn't take many pictures, and definitely wasn't the type for selfies - unless Dorian asked with that little tone and those big eyes - but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

\----

Dorian blinked, “That one for your private collection, dearest?” he asked with a chuckle, “Maker knows all you have to do is get up if you want the real thing.” He grinned again and wiggled his hips suggestively, “though... I have already gotten mostly ready, and if I have to go through all that again we’ll actually be late.”

This was what he loved the most, really.

“Go shower, if you’re going to. I know you like playing with my hair stuff when you can, so that’ll be another fifteen minutes,” Dorian teased.

\----

“You’re not always here, you know, standing there in nothing but a towel, looking like you do,” Cullen flashed Dorian a lopsided kind of smirk as he rose from his spot on the bed and walked slowly to where the man still stood at the bathroom door. An extra little bit of saunter added a slight sway to his step as he did. Dorian did that to him though, the silly swagger and all the smiles and laughing and flirty teasing and everything else. Their time since Cullen came back from treatment had been good; even on _bad_ days, it had still been _good_. And it wasn’t just everything after rehab that Cullen treasured - even before then, when they’d struggled and fallen and there'd been _so much hurt_ , there’d been _so much good_ there, too. So, Cullen wanted all of it - the bad, the good, every little tender moment and every heated argument. He wanted Dorian and everything that came with him for as long as he could have him. For the rest of his life, if he had his way.

As Cullen reached Dorian, he stretched a hand out to grab the knot at the man’s hip that held the towel closed. Pale fingers dug into the soft material and pulled Dorian in close, skin against skin, as amber eyes met grey in an intense gaze. Cullen let his lips linger over Dorian’s, not touching, but close, so close. “And aren’t you the one always going on about being fashionably late?” he murmured, lips still _not quite_ pressing into a kiss. A heartbeat passed and Cullen's mouth pulled into a crafty little grin as he tilted his head up to kiss the tip of Dorian’s nose. “No, you’re right… time to get ready. We shouldn't keep those frescoes waiting.”

\----

“Maker, you’ll be the death of me, you know that?” Dorian asked before he tipped his chin up to nip at Cullen’s lower lip. He wouldn’t have it any other way, thoug. All that little swagger and teasing was just so _good_. It was happy and healthy and all the things Dorian never thought he’d have in a relationship. Those were things that happened to other people, things that were too much trouble, now look at them. Look at _him_.

He sighed and lifted a hand to cup Cullen’s cheek, “Go before I decide it’s worth it, because I’m losing my resolve here.”

\----

“Good to know I test your resolve,” Cullen chuckled as he turned his head to kiss Dorian’s palm, “because you definitely test mine.” He untangled his hand from the towel wrapped around the man’s waist and pulled away toward the bathroom, if a little reluctantly. Ah well, there’d be time for that after whatever happened tonight… happened. “... and I don’t use your hair stuff _whenever I can_. Only when I’m feeling brave, because, Maker, I still have no idea what half that stuff is supposed to do.” He grinned and kissed Dorian’s cheek before retreating fully into the bathroom to shower and shave… make himself generally presentable, anyway. It was an important evening, after all.

\----

Once Cullen had disappeared into the bathroom, Dorian took a breath and dropped himself on the bed. He wanted just a moment to breathe. All the heat from the shower, not to mention in Cullen’s gaze when he’d been leaned up with him, seemed to hit him all at once. That was nerves. Dorian knew that well enough. He was in control well enough to know that.

_Relax. This is the right thing. You know it is._

Dorian took a few deep breaths to ease how his heart had started to beat faster. Getting worked up now wasn’t going to help things. Nerves were fine, but panic wasn’t helpful. He had no reason to panic. Panic wasn’t productive, and if he panicked, it would only worry Cullen. So, a few more breaths moved through him. Now, he was thankful that Cullen was in the shower as it gave him a few minutes to gather himself. It took a bit, complete with slightly trembling hands and shaky breaths, but Dorian managed. It was going to be alright. He knew it was right.

When he was half dressed, which was him in a pair of tight jean that were pulled up over his hips but not done up yet, Dorian moved to dig around in the closet to pull out the small box from the pocket of a suit he’d hidden it in. He curled his hand around it and squeezed, but didn’t move to open it. He’d opened it and looked at it every chance he got, but not now. Now... now he needed some help, or guidance or strength. Or maybe he just wanted to put it out there that he was doing this.

_Please let him say yes. Please. Maker, please._

He tucked the box into the jacket he intended to wear for the night and set to getting dressed the rest of the way. If he ever said he didn’t spend those quiet moments sendig prayers up to the Maker or Andraste or whoever might listen... he would have been lying. Any help would have been appreciated, even if it was just an acknowledgement.

\----

Cullen spent his time in the shower absently washing his body and hair under the running water as his mind cycled through all the different ways this conversation would go. _Maker, what if we never get a moment alone? I can't do this in front of a crowd._ That thought hadn't even occurred to him until now, and it made his blood run a little cold, despite the hot water flowing over him.

_Calm down. If not tonight, then another night. You're looking for the right time, remember. It doesn't have to be tonight._

It wasn't like he'd never done anything like this before. He thought back to the last time as he bit the inside of his cheek, a habit he could never seem to stop. That time, he'd planned everything out… had even rehearsed what he was going to say in front of a mirror… and he'd still cocked it up royally from sheer nervousness. That's why this time - the last time he'd ever do this - he decided to just let go and let it come naturally. That had done nothing to ease his frazzled nerves, though, as he'd just been carrying the thing that was now in his nightstand drawer with him whenever they were together for days… which only served to burn a hole in his pocket and his mind.

_It'll be fine. It'll be better than fine. Even if everything goes wrong, as long as it's done, Maker, it will have been worth it._

After a careful shave and a quick towel off, Cullen went about the task of fixing that mop of curls on his head. It was just long enough to be awkward, but Dorian liked it… and he loved the feeling of the man's fingers pulling through it, so what was there to do? He sighed and rolled his eyes a bit as he picked up something that he hoped would at least keep the frizzing to a minimum. Dorian was so much better at taming this mess than Cullen was, and he had half a mind to call the man in. But no, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts a little longer.

_How am I going to say this?_

\----

Once he was mostly dressed, Dorian ducked out of the room to pour them each a small glass of the leftover champagne. Why not, right? He’d celebrate all day and night, even if it was just them celebrating having the day off. Every day they were together was worth celebrating.

While he waited, Dorian rested a hand inside the pocket of his jacket. His hand closed around the ring, and while he pretended to look through his messages Dorian couldn’t help trying to imagine what he might say. What could he say? Should he actually get down on one knee? Would Cullen be embarrassed if he did it somewhere public? Should he do it before they got there?

Too many things. Those nerves slammed back into him again and Dorian took a shaky breath. _Easy, Pavus. Easy._ It was going to be fine. Just fine. He just needed to be calm. Calm and collected was better than nervous and jittery. Whatever he did would be fine. Cullen would be happy regardless. _Just calm down._

Dorian cast a quick glance back toward the bedroom and bathroom before he turned around, if only so it would look like he was just leaning against the counter, and licked his lips, “Will you marry me?” he asked softly. He’d never said it out loud. The words felt strange in his mouth and for a moment Dorian was worried that maybe he _should_ have practiced so it would seem more natural. What if it came out all mush-mouthed and he sounded like an idiot?

\----

“Just getting dressed, be out in a minute,” Cullen called through the open bedroom door as he made his way to the closet.

Now. What to wear? Dorian had said it wasn't _fancy_ , had said jeans were ok, but Cullen had learned with a quickness that their definitions of fancy differed a great deal. All it took was meeting Dorian's coworkers “just for drinks, nothing fancy” in his normal street clothes and beat up converse shoes _once_ to teach him that lesson. Still… he was given permission to wear jeans, explicit this time. So, he pulled on a reasonably-fitted pair that were dark gray - the ones that Dorian seemed to like best, anyway - with a black belt and white button down, tucked in and sleeves immediately rolled up to the elbows.

He took a look in the mirror and thought for a moment. It seemed altogether too plain for what he was planning to do. He felt like there should be something _more_ … but not a tie. Anything but that. Maybe a different shirt. He moved to the closet and pushed through all the things that hung on his side of it, muttering “No. No. Nope. Why do I still have this?” with each item, until his hands stopped on the black vest Dorian had given him once upon a time. _Oh, why not?_ The man seemed to like it when he wore a vest, and Cullen had to agree that it made him look at least a little more presentable once he'd pulled it on. Even better, it was made with a hidden pocket on the inside, which was just perfect for what he needed to do.

He made sure Dorian was still occupied elsewhere before opening the drawer, pulling the box out, and taking the thing that laid inside out. He held it between his thumb and forefinger on one hand, that was how small it was, but it held so much meaning and hope in its simple curves and bright luster.

It was, of course, a ring. A ring that Cullen had obsessed over every moment when Dorian wasn't around for months now. He'd spent countless hours scouring the internet, trying to find something worthy of Dorian. He knew that the man would like whatever he bought, but Cullen didn't want him to like it. Cullen wanted him to _love_ it. In the end, after considering and rejecting increasingly intricate designs, he'd gone with something simple - a band of silver like the one Dorian had given Cullen before he left for treatment. He liked that symmetry, quite a bit. The ring he now held differed from the one Cullen always wore on his thumb only in that this one had a single line of small, blue gems down the center. Not a huge diamond, but he hoped it still said _engaged_. Maker, he wasn't sure if men gave men… _engagement rings_ , but he was nothing if not traditional where matters of the heart came in, and it felt right.

Cullen faced the mirror again, holding the ring in front of him. He was a little pale, a little wild eyed, but exceedingly happy. “Will you marry me?” he whispered and smiled. Some things never changed, it seemed.

A noise from the other room made Cullen start, and he tucked the ring into the interior pocket of his vest. As he walked out to join Dorian, he patted the place over his chest where the token of his affection lay hidden. _Tonight._

“In a strange twist of fate, I took longer to get dressed than you,” he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.” His eyes landed on the glasses of champagne next to Dorian and an eyebrow cocked, “Starting the evening early, are we?”

\----

He tried very hard not to jump when he heard Cullen coming, and Dorian swallowed hard. That was the end of the practice round. At this point they had enough time for a quick drink and to go, and... Maker help him. No, this was fine. It was going to be fine. Whatever happened, whatever came out of his mouth, Dorian had to trust that his charm and charisma would see him through. It always had, after all.

“I thought we should kill the bottle,” he pointed out, “it... champagne turns to vinegar if it’s left out for too long, or didn’t you know that?” Dorian winked and held out one of the glasses to Cullen, “and, I thought... a toast, perhaps. For a good evening out doing something a little different to normal?”

\----

“To a good evening and something… different, then.” Cullen smiled and clinked his glass to Dorian's before draining half the glass in one go. Maker, a little liquid courage might be needed tonight. Dorian had no idea how _different_ it was going to be, assuming the right moment presented itself. It would, Cullen had a feeling, even if it wasn't until after and they were home and getting ready for bed. _For better or worse_ , Cullen decided as he looked into those bright grey eyes, _I'm going to ask him tonight. He doesn't even know._ A flush crept up on Cullen's face then as he grinned to himself. _I'm going to tell him he's the only one I want for forever… and he has no idea._

\----

Dorian’s smile only grew as he sipped his drink and he leaned in for a quick kiss. They’d take a cab out to the showing, then probably back again. There was the thought that maybe they ought to have found a place to stay for the night, perhaps a nice hotel. Maybe to celebrate later. Maybe.

There were so many things they could do. Though, really, the most exciting thing they _could_ do after tonight was get married. Eventually. Whenever it happened. Maker, thinking of it now made Dorian even more jittery. That said, the smile Cullen was sporting eased him a bit. The man was truly beautiful when he was happy. Happiness suited him to the ground, and Dorian so wanted to make him happy forever.

“You’re smiling,” he commented, “I’m thrilled you’re excited.”

\----

“What's not to smile about?” Cullen asked, his tone suddenly serious and his eyes sincere. His hand raised and he let his fingers brush gently along Dorian's jawline. “It's a… it's a good life we have. Certainly worth a smile or two.”

And while he knew that life would continue on regardless of what was said later when the question was asked and an answer given, he still _wanted_ it. Functionally, only their legal status as a couple would change, but it ran far deeper than that in his heart. Cullen wanted to stand with Dorian in front of family, friends and the Maker to declare their love - to declare that he'd be _proud_ to call Dorian ‘husband.’

Cullen cleared his throat and took another sip of his champagne as he let his eyes wander over Dorian's frame. He was a lucky man in many ways - his love was beautiful inside and out. “... and you're also looking… quite nice tonight. Worth another smile, definitely.”

\----

He’d be lying if he said that didn’t make him a bit more confident. Dorian was still grinning and he leaned up to kiss Cullen for a long moment before he rocked backward and drained the rest of his glass. Perhaps this was a sign, one from the errant prayers he’d been sending up. Cullen seemed happy, happier than usual, and Dorian took that to mean _someone_ had heard him. This was the right choice.

“We’ll have to make sure not to have too much to drink,” he commented as he set down his glass and reached out to touch the vest, “so we can come home and maybe get out of all this?” Odds were good, if he knew them as well as he did, that they wouldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It wouldn’t be the first time. The back of the couch had become... well, a favorite. It warmed Dorian’s cheeks to think about it. “I’ll be interested to see who Solas invited,” he went on, “his... lover, I suppose she is, I would assume. I’ve never met her, but she seems lovely, and some people from work and his little circle. I’m imagining a lot of burlap, actually, so we might be a bit over dressed.”

\----

“Oh? I can go get changed,” Cullen said with a wink. “I’m sure there’s something in my wardrobe that would fit right in with burlap. Flip flops and shorts… if it weren’t so cold.” Dorian pulled a face at that, as Cullen knew he would. They worked on many different levels, but they’d never see eye to eye on the topic of flip flops. It was a fact.

With a laugh, Cullen drank the rest of his champagne, and they were off into the night. As they sat in the cab, he couldn’t help but keep placing his hand over the ring that lay hidden under his vest and jacket. It was silly, he knew, there was no way it could have gone anywhere, but that didn’t stop him from checking every two minutes.

“So, how far out is this chantry?” he asked, just to keep his mind off his plans.


	7. Maybe Marry Me [2 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which questions are asked and answers are given.

Once they were arranged in the cab and Dorian had given off the address, he pulled out his phone to look it up, “Fifteen minutes or so?” he offered with a shrug, “depending on the traffic?” Not too far that it was completely out of the way, but tucked into a part of town Dorian never went to. He was looking forward to it, truth be told, and looking forward to seeing how it all looked. It was certainly more interesting than the usual affairs with fairy lights and too-sweet cocktails out of jars that accompanied most independent artists these days. Perhaps he and Cullen might actually be able to sneak some time alone. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

As they rode, Dorian took Cullen’s hand and leaned a bit into him. This wasn’t the first time they’d shared a car on the way to (or back from) a rather life-changing moment. At least this time it would be happy and neither of them would be completely exhausted or sick or Maker only knew. It would be better this time. So, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he thought about it, and Dorian leaned over to kiss Cullen’s cheek as they turned down the street that the building was on, “I hope you haven’t exceeded your hipster quota for the week yet, or this might get awkward.”

\----

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mentally preparing the entire cab ride over,” Cullen chuckled. Which wasn’t _really_ a lie - he had been steeling himself, but it wasn’t for the type of people who’d show up to this thing. No, he’d been running through scenarios in his head and trying to think through the chorus of _marry me marry me_ that looped in his mind. As they got closer, that giddy happiness he’d felt back at home turned into raw nerves, and he had to concentrate to keep his knees from bobbing up and down.

That nervous energy only increased as the car turned into the chantry yard, and Cullen worked to maintain a reasonably calm exterior. Once the driver was paid and the car’s taillights were heading away from him, Cullen turned to the chantry and grabbed Dorian’s hand. “Beautiful old Chantry,” he commented. “How elven is this elven art, anyway? Are we walking into a blasphemous scandal?” He just needed to talk, that’s all. Talk and not obsess. The moment would come when it came.

\----

Dorian shook his head, “Done in the same style, I believe, but more... personal topics, if I had to guess,” he answered and squeezed the hand wrapped around his. It was a beautiful building, actually. Standing in front of it, despite the streetlights and lights obviously set up to make it clear someone was there, it was mysteriously dim and kind of spooky. Dorian loved it already.

He leaned up and kissed Cullen’s cheek before he started them for the door, “Buildings like this always remind me of home,” Dorian commented, “not that we went unless it was a holiday or my grandparents were there, but I suddenly feel like I ought to be complaining about giving up my evening for a night of singing the Benedictions.” That made him grin and he leaned up again to nip at Cullen’s earlobe, “though I’m sure a place like this has all kinds of dark corners for, ah, quiet contemplation? You think?”

\----

As they walked through the intricately carved doors, Cullen was preparing an equally off-color remark. _Or not so quiet_ … something along those lines, but the words died on his lips and his mouth fell loose as his eyes opened wide in wonder. _Perfect_ was the word he thought, and that slack-jawed stare became a smile of delight. The soft light of candles illuminated the old worship hall in a way that made it seem otherworldly, a work of art itself with its vaulted ceilings and old-world architecture. The music echoing through the warm air, low and mysterious, was a balm for the raw nerves that had been riling Cullen up only moments before and only added to heighten that… ethereal - was that the word? - ambiance. It was… well, it was magical, and Cullen felt the urge to drop to one knee on the spot… but no. He couldn't do this while the coat check attendant was holding his hand out to take their jackets and other people were filing in behind them.

_Wait. You have all night. Go find one of those dark corners Dorian mentioned and find some time alone._

Cullen sighed happily as he took off his jacket and handed it to the attendant. “This is… this is lovely,” he remarked. He couldn't remember the last time he called something _lovely,_ but it was. It really was.

\----

Well, it certainly was the ambiance Dorian expected. For all the joking about _his_ flair for drama, Solas had his own in spades. It was beautiful, though, and everything Dorian had sort of been hoping for when it came to tonight. He’d never picked the elf for white walls and precision lighting, after all. This, though? This was inescapably... what was the word?

Haunting. But, of course, in a good way. This would stick with him forever, Dorian knew it, and he couldn’t wait.

Once they’d handed off their coats, Dorian discreetly patted the pocket of his suit jacket. The box was still nestled safely against his hip and he was thrilled. Alright. The rounds first, since this _was_ an art showing, then he could sort out their personal time. It was expected or him to meet everyone, of course, so there’d be no peace until he did. At least Cullen seemed to be getting into the spirit of it, which Dorian appreciated more and more. These days, it seemed he was eager to know more about Dorian’s chosen hobbies and interests, just as he was willing to listen and learn when Cullen offered him the headphones to listen to whatever mixing situation Garrett had him working on. He didn’t understand, probably a bit like Cullen probably didn’t understand everything about this world, but they were trying.

That was the important thing. They’d both decided, separately and privately, to try. It was why things were working.

“Bit different to usual, isn’t it?” Dorian asked softly and grinned as he took Cullen’s hand in his own again, “let’s get a drink and go find the man himself, and then we can investigate this musical situation because I am... really liking all this put together. What do you say?”

\----

Cullen couldn't have agreed more. It really was breathtaking, and even if this were just a normal night out where no life-changing questions were to be asked… it still would have had the same effect. He paused just to listen to the strains of the guitar and the bewitching voice that accompanied it, and had to admit there was obvious skill there. The acoustics were just as beautiful as he'd thought they would be, and his fingers itched to play… but that was for another time.

“Oh, absolutely, let's go,” he replied with enthusiasm. “I'd love to meet the musician. Morrigan, you said her name was? She's got some talent. I'm a little jealous.”

\----

Dorian smiled and led them through the crowd to get a glass of wine each. Near the back, Solas was standing with a small group and talking somewhat intensely. He’d expected nothing else. At his side was a gorgeous woman, another elf, with long red hair that stood almost as tall as him. Suddenly Dorian understood the muse. “Come on,” he prompted to Cullen and slid his way into the group.

“Dorian,” Solas greeted warmly and smiled a bit, “I had a feeling you’d be in before too long. What do you think?” he asked as he gestured to the room.

That made him smile and Dorian squeezed Cullen’s hand once before he let go to shake Solas’, “Even better than what you said it was going to be,” he agreed, and turned to look back at Cullen, “I’m not sure if you two have met yet. I thought it would be alright to bring a plus one.”

“More the merrier,” Solas agreed and smiled at Cullen as he held his hand out, “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”

\----

Meeting new people had always been a challenge for Cullen, it was just part of who he was, but he’d grown used to all the introductions he had to smile and shake hands through at these things. Of course, he knew if it was ever really too much, all he had to do was tell Dorian and that would be it - no questions asked and no hard feelings. He’d understand. It was one of the many reasons Cullen loved the man, after all. Thankfully, though, that hadn’t happened in a good long while, and the people Dorian introduced him to were usually quite interesting. So, Cullen returned the smile and took the hand offered by the tall elf, “Cullen Rutherford, nice to meet you… and thanks for having me. This is all… amazing. Really nice work.”

\----

"Cullen,” Solas repeated with a small smile, “yes, Dorian’s spoken of you.” He cast a side glance toward Dorian and lifted his drink, “you two should have a walk around. Come back and tell me what you liked.” Again his attention turned back to Cullen and he smiled, “Have a chat with Morrigan. Dorian tells me you’re quite the musician too.”

At that, Dorian leaned over and kissed Cullen’s cheek, “We’ll let them mingle. I’d love to have a look around.”

\----

“Thanks again,” Cullen called back to Solas as he turned and gave Dorian's hand a squeeze. “I'm glad we came. This really is nicely done. You're going to have to tell me what I'm looking at art-wise, of course, but even I can tell this is special.”

Amber eyes cut over at Dorian. The man usually had a handful of people he had to greet at these things, work function or no, and Cullen was anxious to get all those conversations over with as quickly as possible. Earlier, he'd decided it had to be tonight, even if it was after they left. Now that he found himself in this place, with the music and the art and the beauty all around them… it was like their two worlds were meeting in a singularly magnificent way. No, it wouldn't be after. It had to be here. His eyes were already casting about, seeking out any place where they might have time alone. But first…

“Any other folks you're just dying to talk to?”

\----

“Actually just you,” Dorian answered and nodded toward a room off to the side of the main hall that was just as dim and mysterious as the rest, “come with me, hm?”

He led Cullen off and into the room that was dark and quiet and had only one painting in it, though Dorian couldn’t have said what it was. The painting was the last thing he was looking at. All Dorian could see was Cullen in that vest and shirt and looking more beautiful than anything Dorian had ever seen. He was always beautiful. Always. He was the brightest thing in Dorian’s life, had been since that day on the platform the first time he saw him, and now Cullen seemed to shine that much brighter in all the darkness and candles and music and art.

Once they were a bit away, he turned and looked up into that handsome face. Okay. They were there. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was... everything he’d wanted. Now he just wanted this, the _talking_ , to be perfect. Maker, he should have practiced. he should have had the perfect speech where he talked about seeing Cullen on that platform and how he’d fallen for him the second he’d seen him. How he’d gone home and listened to all the music he had in the hopes it would make shivers go down his spine like Cullen’s voice had the first time he’d heard it. How on a whim, he’d bought that first cup of coffee and held it out to him without a second thought. Dorian hadn’t known what he was doing then, not really…

And he didn’t know what he was doing now.

Dorian’s mouth opened, and he expected to say something dazzling and romantic. That was the plan. He was always dazzling and romantic, try as he might to not be. However-

“Marry me.”

Grey eyes widened as the words actually fell out of his mouth, and he stopped immediately with only a choking kind of sound coming out, “I... that was supposed to be witty and sweet and very complimentary. Also possibly on one knee.”

\----

_Did he just…_

Cullen couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It sounded an awful lot like Dorian was proposing to him, but that… that couldn’t be, right? What were the odds?

Eyes wide and shock written all over his face, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Did you just… ?”

\----

A soft chuckle escaped him, and Dorian slipped a hand into his pocket to pull out the box. He licked his lips and gave Cullen a look before he opened it to reveal a simple, tasteful black band with a bit of gold set into it. “I did,” he answered, and held it out, “but let me try again, hm?”

Dorian leaned in and kissed Cullen’s cheek. His mind was quiet, calm, but still working. Always working. “Will you marry me?” he asked, and pulled the ring out of the box before he gestured for Cullen’s hand, “Cullen, would you?”

\----

The weight of those words, that question hit him and stole his breath for a moment as he stared wordlessly into those grey eyes. Eyes that had seen Cullen at his absolute worst. Eyes that had cried tears with and for him. Eyes that had crinkled in laughter and happiness with him. And now they were looking at him expectantly, hopefully, waiting to hear his answer. He'd prepared for this moment, but he'd thought the roles would be reversed, and he'd held on to the fear that maybe marriage wasn't something Dorian wanted. That fear lifted and left in its wake only happiness.

“Maker, yes… I would. I will. In a heartbeat.” Cullen could feel himself starting to shake from that sudden explosion of emotion, and tears pricked at his eyes. He laughed as he cried, and his voice was thick when he spoke again. “I would have asked myself,” he started as he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the ring he'd meant to present as _he_ asked Dorian the very same question, “... but you beat me to it, you see.”

\----

His eyes widened. Oh, but the Maker did work in mysterious and hilarious ways. Of course Dorian had said a prayer, but not for that. He was thrilled, but this was... actually ridiculous. Ridiculous worked for them, however, and Dorian would be the first to admit it. His eyes went hot and wet completely unbidden, and he had to blink a few times before he started to laugh. This _would_ happen. Of course it would.

“Well, my timing has always been impeccable,” he teased, voice a bit thick and teary. They were both laughing now, and Dorian leaned forward to slide _his_ ring onto Cullen’s finger before he held out his hand for the one Cullen held, “let’s have a look at this.” Maker, but he was almost blubbering now. His chest felt entirely too full and heavy and like it was going to burst from happiness at the same time. It was an incredible feeling.

“This would only happen to us, you know,” Dorian went on, “somewhere, someone is laughing, and no one will ever believe us.”

\----

It felt good, Dorian putting that ring on his finger. Cullen felt both the brush of fingers against fingers and the promise of a life together all in one movement, and his knees went weak for just a moment as his head swam from it all. Lightheaded and giddy, he took a breath to steady himself, laughing right along with Dorian. He was right - this whole situation was unbelievable. Improbable. This whole thing was just...

“Perfect,” he said, “This is just… it's perfect. Let them laugh.” He was smiling - he didn't think he'd ever stop - as he took Dorian's hand in his own, but he paused before he slipped his ring onto the third finger of Dorian's left hand. There was something he wanted to do before he placed that silver band where it would stay. At least until it was replaced or joined by another some day in the future when they spoke vows and were joined together as more than they were alone - as husbands, with everything that came with it, until the end of their days. That thought brought on another wave of that boneless and floating feeling - _Mine, as I am his._ \- and Cullen held that hand tighter to ground himself.

Amber eyes bright with tears and joy met grey as Cullen spoke again. “You know, I've been working myself up over this for… a while now. It may be silly at this point, and a bit unfair since I presumably know the answer, but I'll ask anyway.” He took a breath and squeezed the hand he held. “We’ve been through fire together, you know. But we also made it out alive, still together,” Cullen's voice cracked on that last word - _together_ \- and he had to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat to finish. “And to me, you are… Maker, you're everything I want and all I need. Irreplaceable. And so... Dorian Pavus, will _you_ marry _me_?”

\----

Another laugh, though this one had a bit of a sob to it. Dorian wiped carefully at his eyes with his other hand and blinked a few times before he grinned up at Cullen, “In light of about sixty seconds ago, I suppose I should say yes, hm?” he teased before he nodded. Then nodded again more solemnly and Dorian took a shaky kind of breath, “I will. Of course I will.” In his entire life he’d never expected to say those words to anyone. Ever. Certainly he’d thought about it, but always in some sort of nebulous, fairy tale way.

The asking to be exclusive was terrifying, the telling Cullen he loved him exponentially more so, the agreeing to try to make it work again exponentially again, and asking him to move in yet again... every time he’d wondered if maybe _this_ would be the time he’d get struck by lightning for hypocrisy. For all those years he’d rolled his eyes at this sort of thing. It had been out of jealousy and some sort of imagined need to put himself above it, yes, which was why he was looking up at the stone ceiling like he expected a storm cloud to form as if by magic and strike him down.

Instead of lightning, however, Dorian just leaned in and rested his forehead against Cullen’s as he took both his hands in his own and held them tight. Already he could feel he’d need to rearrange some of the jewelry he wore so that ring could sit alone on his finger, but Dorian had never been more aware of anything he wore as acutely as he was that band on his finger at the moment. He still felt a bit stupid for not having something elegant to say, but... as it happened, they apparently had the rest of their lives for him to say all the elegant things he wanted. Cullen would understand.

“I love you,” he whispered before he tipped his chin down and caught Cullen’s lips in a kiss.

\----

That kiss electrified his whole body, and Cullen let go and fell into it as he poured all that emotion - joy, excitement, relief, love, all of it was present in that one kiss. He felt himself expand into more than he was before, and it was a little frightening, as all big change could be, but it was also _right_. How strange that a cup of coffee on a cold day could lead to this. How wonderful that they'd found each other and had grown together… _healed_ together. Cullen thought back to everything that had risen to challenge them and they times they'd almost broken: his own insecurities, past lovers, anxiety, his addiction, all of it had shaken them, but they'd fought back, scars and all, and now here they were. Against the odds, against probability, they were happy and healthy and in love. They just _were._

It was a lot to process, a lot to feel, and by the time that kiss broke, Cullen was breathless and flushed. His left hand raised to cup Dorian's face as he pressed their foreheads together again. “I love you, too,” he breathed, eyes closed and mouth smiling, “Always.”

\----

There was something so beautiful about Cullen looking like he did like that. With his eyes closed and smiling, he looked so serene and happy, and Dorian couldn’t help but sigh happily. Cullen had said yes, as Dorian knew he would, but there was still that adrenaline from the worrying and the planning that hadn’t left him yet. One hand smoothed along the other man’s back for a little while as he worked to just stay in that moment. Just being happy was a lot better than trying to think of the future. They could do that tomorrow, after all.

Dorian pressed a veritably chaste kiss against Cullen’s lips before he moved away to study those amber eyes. In the candlelight they looked almost like molten gold, really, and it warmed Dorian’s blood to look into them and see so much love and happiness there. “Let’s have a look around, _fiance_ , he teased warmly, “which I’m sure I’ll never get tired of saying, by the way.”

\----

The last thing Cullen wanted to do was leave this little sanctuary where it was just the two of them and nothing else mattered. It was too soon to go back to the real world after floating so high, and he wanted none of it. He pulled Dorian back in, nuzzling into his neck as he circled his arms around the man’s waist. “Just a little longer. I’d like to have you to myself just a little longer,” he breathed, “Please?”

\----

Maker take him, how could he say no to that? Dorian curled his arms tightly around Cullen’s neck and pressed soft kisses to his temple and his hair. The man was a treasure, worth more than anything Dorian could have ever had before, and he still woke with thanks to whoever let this man be in his life. It was his first thought, or perhaps second if ‘ _fucking alarm_ ’ was the first, and his last before he slept. Always.

With a happy sigh, Dorian raked his fingers through Cullen’s hair and he smiled as he caught sight of the ring on his finger. His eyes blinked once before he lifted lifted his hand closer to inspect it. It was... it was beautiful. He smiled happily and hugged Cullen in closer with the arm already around him. “You’re amazing.”

\----

“Hardly,” Cullen replied with a little smile as he pulled back to look into Dorian’s eyes. They had the capacity to flash like steel, Cullen knew, but right now with him, they were soft and just… Cullen could get lost in them if he wasn't careful. He reached both hands up to cradle that handsome face, thumbs gliding over skin that truly shone like bronze in the light of the flickering candlelight. “But, Maker, with you, I feel like I am… Or can be.” He tilted his head up to kiss Dorian's forehead.

Three years ago… two years ago, he'd given up on loving himself, let alone have anyone else, especially someone as special as Dorian, love him - _really_ love him, faults and all. He'd hidden so much from Dorian out of fear, and it all seemed so silly now. Silly, but maybe it was necessary to get them where they stood tonight. All that pain and confusion made them who they were, battle wounds and all, and if he was honest, he didn't regret a damn thing in this moment. He'd happily pay that price 100 times over for what they had now.

His eyes caught the ring that he now wore. He'd worn one there before, if course, though it had been a plain band of gold where this one was ebony. Cullen thought of Ella, and how he'd felt then. It was the same, but it was different. And that was ok - he'd been a different person back then. The person he was now loved Dorian, more fully than he thought possible. The man had changed his world, made it bigger… made it better. Ella would have been happy for them.

His hands dropped, smoothing slowly over Dorian's as they came to a rest at his elbows. His smile widened as he continued, “We're going to be married. _That's_ amazing when you think about it, isn't it?”

\----

“Don’t even get me started thinking about it,” Dorian told him with a smile before he leaned in and kissed Cullen’s cheek, “I’m trying to be present in this with you and your... smiling like that and your eyes looking all bright and happy and not start trying to plan.”

It was easy to get lost in it all, actually. Cullen with his smiles and his big heart and broad shoulders and that handsome face that made Dorian’s heart go crazy. He took Cullen’s hand, the one with the ring on it now, and he kissed the knuckle just above the ring, “Do you like it, by the way?” he asked, “I wanted something... er, different. But still very _you_.”

\----

The excitement of the question had distracted Cullen from really looking at the ring Dorian had chosen for him. It had just been important that it existed and was on his finger. Now that he was calming down, he raised his hand to inspect it. He'd noticed that it was dark, black or almost so, but he'd missed the two diagonal stripes that cut across the surface in the center. One stripe was gold and the other was a lighter… some material he couldn't place. In fact, he wasn't sure what the band was made of, he just knew he loved it. It was simple, but it stood out on his pale hand like a beacon. He liked that contrast it made and the way the gold flashed against that ebony background.

It seemed Dorian knew his tastes better than he did, which was no surprise. “Perfection,” he grinned, “I love it. Which is good, because I don't intend to take it off... ever.” His brows furrowed just a bit in concentration before he added, “What's it made of? It doesn't feel like metal.”

\----

He grinned and leaned up for another kiss, “It’s not, I thought something different would be better,” Dorian offered and nodded back toward the rest of the gallery, “I thought something a bit more... well, I had to put my stamp on it. And I knew you’d love it.”

The fact that Cullen did love it was amazing. Dorian had worried that it wouldn’t be traditional enough, much like he had of himself throughout a good portion of their relationship, but it had always worked out in the past. Look at them now, Maker’s sake, they’d proposed to each other at an art show in an old Chantry. It was only fitting to have something so very not traditional. “Besides,” he went on as he leaned in again and pressed his lips to Cullen’s, “the only thing that looks better together than black and gold is you and me, and to have both in one statement is about as syrupy as I can manage. Had to work in some of that sentimentality, right?”

\----

“I have always maintained that you’re sweet, but you seem to always want to fight me on that point,” Cullen laughed. Dorian preferred the term _thoughtful_ , but Cullen tended to call it like he saw it. Plus, the way Dorian scrunched his nose at those sorts of descriptions was adorable… which was something else he'd argue, but again, true. Either way, there were many things that made Cullen love this man… his softer qualities included.

“And, now I feel like I didn't try hard enough, though Maker knows I did my best. Is it ok? Does it fit? I may have stolen one of your rings to get it sized…”

\----

Dorian lifted his hand and inspected the ring in the low light. Candles made for great ambiance but not the best when trying to actually see something important. “Wait,” he prompted, and quickly slid the ring off for a second before he took off the one he’d already been wearing on that finger to resettle it. That was better. It was comfortable. It felt like it belonged there. “Perfect,” he answered, and held his hand out a bit to take it in, “it’s absolutely beautiful. Here I would have thought you’d go for the... I don’t know, solitaire diamond type thing. This is amazing.”

He smiled up at him, “I love it. It’s already my favorite thing I own.”

\----

“Good,” Cullen managed with a nod, voice thick and face beaming with pride at Dorian's words. It had been so important to him that Dorian like that ring - dumb as he knew it was, it felt like a test of how well he knew the man. He was was pleased to say the least - that test had been passed, apparently with flying colors. Of course, Dorian could be placating him, but his voice and his face were sincere. Cullen had done well.

Cullen reached for the hand that now wore his ring, entwining fingers together. “There were… a fair few on the reject list,” he chuckled, “one with a diamond, yes, but it didn't seem right. A _clear_ stone just didn't feel like… you. You are… far more colorful than that.” He grinned at that - Dorian had far more personality than a diamond would indicate. He demanded attention. He was himself a jewel, shining bright against the dull backdrop of the mundane. “Mia may have helped. A little,” he admitted with a laugh, “But I made her swear not to tell anyone else yet. She might explode any moment.”

\----

“Listen to you,” Dorian chuckled before he lifted the hand that held his and kissed it, “I think I’m rubbing off on you.” This was absolutely perfect. So perfect. Nothing Dorian could have imagined would have been this perfect. Even with the ridiculousness of the same night proposals, it was absolutely perfect.

He leaned in and rested his head on Cullen’s shoulder for a moment before he tipped his chin back and kissed him, “I wouldn’t change a thing about all this,” Dorian told him, “except... I think we ought to find some champagne. This might be Solas’ show, but I don’t mind celebrating our own thing instead.” His smile was dreamy and bright, ecstatic, and Dorian squeezed Cullen’s hand, “why don’t we do the rounds, since we’re here, and then... go celebrate properly?” he asked. Whether that was at home together or possibly on the top of a building to shout it to the world, Dorian didn’t care, all he wanted was to celebrate the fact that _Cullen_ loved him enough to want to be with him forever.

\----

Dorian happy - really happy - and smiling like that, bright and unreserved, made Cullen's heart jump in his chest. Partly because, Maker knew, the man was a sight to behold when his face lit up like that, but also because Cullen knew he was glowing like that from the promise they'd just made to each other. A life together. A life with the one who'd reached past all Cullen's fears and failings and armor to find his heart. Sweet Andraste, what had he ever done to deserve this? Whatever it was, yes, it was worth celebrating.

A content sigh escaped his lips. “You're beautiful when you smile like that, you know,” he breathed as the fingers of his free hand brushed gently up Dorian's neck. “Not that you aren't always, but tonight… yes, I think some celebration is in order.”

\----

That settled it. Dorian tugged Cullen back out into the fray and found a passing server with champagne flutes wandering by so he could pluck two from the tray and pass one to Cullen. “Come on,” he prompted as he took Cullen’s hand again and led him over to a wall where three of the larger fresco-style canvases leaned. They were big, blocky things full of color. There was an art to making them look beautiful as opposed to like giant coloring pages for children. Some people had that knack, Solas certainly did, and Dorian turned to look over at Cullen before he touched the rim of his glass to the one the other man held.

“I spent a lot of time trying to think of what I’d do when I asked you,” he commented as his eyes moved over the very simple painting, “I mean, I tried not to plan it out _too much_ , but you know how I am. I was thinking of all the things I could have done: a picnic, fancy dinner somewhere, at home with candles and something I made for us to eat... but this sort of happened and I thought it was too good to pass up.” Dorian looked back up at Cullen then and smiled. He could have been very poetic and compared their whole relationship to something like the paintings and the whole ambiance: simple and beautiful yet mysterious and vaguely haunting. That might have been too on the nose, though. This was a fun experience, something to shake them up a bit, and he’d wanted to use it to his advantage metaphors be damned.

He took a sip of his champagne and sighed, “This is what I wanted. Just…” then let out a laugh before he turned to look at Cullen more fully, “this. And you. Somewhere that would make us both smile.”

\----

“No, you’re right. It's pretty perfect,” Cullen grinned over the lip of his glass at Dorian as he took a sip of his own drink. “Clearly, I thought so, too. Or I had a feeling when you told me about it back home.”

Mostly back in the real world now, or as close as he was going to get for a while, Cullen could hear the music again, airy and light but somehow also dark - _minor key,_ he thought offhand - and allowed his eyes to take in the pieces of art before him. It was all shapes and colors and abstract figures and… emotion. He smiled again. That was what this evening had been, hadn't it? Just a jumble of feelings that somehow came together to form a coherent and beautiful whole. Nerves and joy and love, all underscored by the minor key that was a healthy dose of fear. But not the same kind of fear he'd felt when… before. It wasn't the fear that locked him down and kept him frozen. It was the good kind that had set his body alight and pushed him forward, even if Dorian had beaten him to the punch.

“How, uh… how long had you been planning to do this? When did you _know_?”

He wanted to know everything that had led to this moment. It made him feel… well, a bit like melting that Dorian had been going on behind his back, keeping such happy secrets and schemes and preparing to make this leap with him.

\----

Dorian led them to another block of canvases and sipped his drink as he thought on it. If he wanted to be completely sappy he would have said he knew the minute he saw him, which was... well, somewhat true. He’d known the minute he saw Cullen that he was smitten in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. That was probably the first sign. After that? Things had been a rollercoaster and sometimes Dorian couldn’t place the whys and whens and hows because they all seemed to tangle together. He just... knew.

“Planning this specifically?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, “Solas invited me last week, so sometime since then.” Nothing else had seemed _right_. Everything else was too much like a production or a cliche. Dorian had wanted something else. “But I had the ring commissioned about two months ago,” he went on, “just... you were working, and I was on the way home, and you said Garrett let you out early because of some mixing... thing?”

He shrugged, “I was really excited that you got to come home earlier. Really, really excited. And there was a jewelers, and I just went in. Right then,” and took another drink of his champagne, “I had this feeling like I wanted to be excited about you getting to come home early forever, I guess.”

\----

As they made their way to the next installation, Cullen tried to hold it together, he really did, but that warm expanding feeling was back and his knees felt unsteady. He looped an arm around Dorian's waist and leaned into him, half playfully and half for support. “Well that's just unbearably sweet,” he replied as he pressed a kiss to Dorian's temple. “You _love_ me,” he continued with a slightly teasing tone, laughing as they walked.

\----

Maker save him. Dorian rolled his eyes, though he was smiling, and leaned into him so he could bury his face in Cullen’s neck, “I _looove_ you,” he repeated in the same tone before he pressed a kiss just shy of the other man’s pulse. He could breathe in the scent of soap and cologne, and under all that there was that _something_ else that drove him mad. Everything about Cullen drove Dorian mad.

“You know,” he began after a moment, “this is just the opening night here. We could duck out and go celebrate, then maybe come back... another time?” No one would notice, he figured, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t come and see it later. “If you wanted,” Dorian went on, “I don’t think I’m much for standing around and _not_ jumping you right now.”

\----

Cullen regarded Dorian for a long moment, head inclined and the scarred side of his mouth pulled up in a devilish smirk. He very much agreed with that plan, to just go home and fall into Dorian and not come up for air until they had to. But he also wanted to remember everything about this night - the music, the warm glow, the art that shouldn't be beautiful but was, the man himself. So he took his time before answering, recording all those things, yes, but especially committing as many things about the man himself - Dorian - to memory. He wanted to remember the way the candles set his warm skin on fire, the way he'd smiled so bright and happy for Cullen, the way his eyes were dancing. He wanted to catalog everything about this night so he could hold on to it for years to come, his own secret treasure to recall when things weren't as good or in the dark of night when Dorian was sleeping and he was alone with his thoughts. He soaked in all of it until he was satisfied before Cullen answered. “Maker, yes. It's been a... challenge,” he answered truthfully as he moved closer and brought his lips close to Dorian’s ear, voice dropping low and full of gravel, “... and I'd rather not risk the Maker's wrath by taking you in a chantry.”

It was forward, Maker help him, but it was the truth of things.

\----

That made his knees go weak, and Dorian struggled to swallow for a moment as heat rushed through his blood. He should have accounted for this when he’d made plans to do this outside the house. Done up like they were, they had a hard enough time keeping hands to themselves at these kinds of things and now was just... maybe asking too much. And how could Dorian argue with that voice rumbling in his ear like thunder? It would be a crime against humanity and himself.

“Let’s go,” he agreed with a grin and set down their flutes so they could hunt down their coats. They had champagne at home, after all. Dorian had bought two extra bottles with the one he’d opened that morning for such emergencies. This certainly called for it. They could go and get lost together, in one another, and no one needed to be privy to that. At least not until morning.

When they had their coats on and had slipped away, Dorian took Cullen’s hand in his own as they walked. He felt lighter than air, cliche as it was, and more than just playful in the ‘I want to take you to bed’ sense. Of course he felt that too, but he couldn’t help but laugh and grin and just be _happy_ in every way. So he pulled them to a stop a they walked along the street and kissed Cullen with everything he had. Right now he didn’t care who saw. In fact, he _wanted_ people to see. He wanted everyone in the world to know that he’d just proposed to, and had been proposed to by, Cullen Stanton Rutherford.

\----

Oh, that kiss was everything he wanted. Cullen pressed back, tasting champagne and all the things that were just Dorian as he buried a hand in dark waves and wrapped the other around man's waist, pulling him in closer. He was aware that people were floating out of the gallery, walking by and either staring or pretending not to notice, but for once, he didn't care at all. Dorian had chosen Cullen, just as Cullen had chosen Dorian, and he was going to kiss the man like he deserved. He leaned over and into that kiss, dipping the man in his arms backwards just a bit, but enough to make Cullen think of every passionate kiss from every cheesy romance ever made. He couldn't help it… he was swept up and away.

“Maker,” he breathed when they finally broke. His cheeks were red and his skin was too hot and wanting to be touched. They were altogether too far from home.

\----

“It’s pronounced 'Dorian',” he teased against those scarred lips, “though I know you’ve made the mistake before.” One hand tangled in those blond curls and Dorian kissed him again before he leaned back up and grinned. “Should we get a cab?”

That kiss made Dorian’s heart race, and he just wanted to be home. With his fiance. He had a fiance. He _was_ a fiance. Maker help them both.


	8. Maybe Marry Me [3 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the family learns the news.

The cab ride home was going to test the resolve of both of them, Cullen knew. Getting… carried away on a sidewalk was one thing, subjecting the poor driver unlucky enough to pick them up to their affections in a closed car was quite another. So, once they were settled in that dark backseat and directions were given, Cullen took Dorian's hand into his own and let his fingers idly brush over the newest ring to grace Dorian's hand... and decided maybe conversation was in order. Otherwise, the driver was going to get far more than he bargained for that evening. “So, _fiancé_ , who gets to hear the news first? And _how?_ ” He smiled, amazed and pleased at the same time to hear that word roll off his tongue. “I'd like to maybe tell mom and dad in person, if that's ok?”

\----

That word made shivers go down his spine, and he leaned over to nuzzle into Cullen’s neck. “I can understand that,” he agreed with a smile, “is it too late to call them and invite ourselves for dinner tomorrow?” It wasn’t terribly late, and in Dorian’s experience the minute the first few syllables of “can we come over” was usually met with a nearly explosive ‘yes and when and you could come now and stay!’ from Cullen’s mother.

“And I think they should know first,” he went on, “they might kill us both if we told anyone else.”

\----

“Agreed. It's bad enough that I already told Mia,” Cullen groaned as he checked the time on his phone. “It's not too late… I'll give them a call.”

Five minutes and one phone call later, and they were set for dinner tomorrow. “Mom says hi and that Rosie won't stop going on about that professor… what's his name… that you introduced her to,” Cullen grinned as he tapped out a text at his mother's behest to Mia to see if she wanted to go to dinner, too. “You know, once we tell them, there's no going back. You better prepare now for ‘when we got married...’ and ‘when, do you think?’ and ‘oh, what will your colors be?’” He laughed and squeezed Dorian's hand. “They're gonna be excited and have lots of questions, is what I'm saying.” Cullen was a fully grown man, but he found himself just as happy, just as anxious to tell his parents that he was getting married as he was when he was a baby fresh out of college. Family was important to him, especially since he'd finally reconnected in the past year, and Dorian understood that. Cullen would be forever grateful to him for that understanding. He took Dorian's hand back in his own and squeezed as he added, “They’re going to be so happy.” He leaned over and kissed Dorian's cheek before resting his head on the man's shoulder. “Thanks for humoring me.”

\----

Dorian groaned a little and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I suppose we couldn’t just get a plane ticket and elope, hm?” he asked. The whole wedding ‘thing’ was such a production in Tevinter. He could remember the endless parties for every milestone, the constant strings of who to invite and alliances that needed to be forged. Weddings were less about ‘love forever and eternal’ and more about prenuptial agreements and mutual funds dividends that would be accessible from trust funds once an heir was secured. His own betrothed, and quickly approaching expectation to make it official, had been just as disgusted as he’d been. Though, Dorian suspected, she was probably married off to someone more suitable now.

He took a breath. This wasn’t about that, though. This was something happy. Cullen’s family welcomed him, loved him like his own hadn’t, and he loved them back for it. This wasn’t a business alliance. They just... wanted the best. “And I’m vetoing pastels of any kind,” Dorian grumbled, “I look ill in pale yellow.”

\----

It had done Cullen’s heart a world of good to see how Dorian had warmed up to his family and how his family had accepted and loved Dorian in return. Mia knew some of their rocky past, of course, though Cullen hadn't shared everything with her. He did, however, tell his mother one summer day as they sipped lemonade while Dorian had been otherwise engaged with Rosie in debate over the social impact of some art movement many ages ago. He didn't reveal the intimate details of Dorian's situation, that was Dorian's and Dorian's alone to share as he chose, but had told her everything he dared to about himself and what they'd gone through. In the end, she'd only smiled and patted her son's hand from across the table. _New love is hard, son, even when there aren't any obvious challenges to overcome. The important thing,_ she'd said, _is that you're both happy being yourselves together. And that you trust each other. You do, don't you?_

 _Yes,_ he'd replied immediately. The openness and honesty they had then, and still had right up to this moment, was hard won. There had been times of hurt and uncertainty, even after Cullen had come back and they'd decided to start over. Starting over, however, hadn't wiped the slate clean, so those early days of beginning again had been marked by uncomfortable conversations and patience and support. They'd worked through all the things that had gotten in the way and bogged them down because neither of them ever lost sight of what made all that work worth it in the first place.

His mother had somehow understood all that and had just nodded. _He's good for you. You two fill each other out and build each other up._ She'd grinned then and winked at her son. _He's also fairly easy on the eyes..._

Cullen mused on the way his family had taken to Dorian. His parents’ understanding. Rosie's adoration. The way Bran loved to tease him. Mia’s respect for him. They’d all welcomed Dorian into the fold after he’d survived that first family meal, just as Cullen had known they would, and Dorian had responded in kind... in his own time. And now? Maker, now it was like they were a real…

 _Family_.

As Dorian grumbled about pastels and the color yellow in the backseat of the cab, Cullen thought about that word. Family. His face lit with the dawning realization that soon, Dorian would truly be a part of his. They would be family. Cullen had thought he was done with the tears when they’d left the gallery, had thought he’d evened out from the emotional high from earlier. He realized he was wrong as his throat grew thick and his eyes began to burn, hot and wet.

Cullen grinned over at Dorian and cleared his throat, blinking to keep those sudden tears back. “You know they won’t really care what we do, so long as we’re happy,” he replied with a voice that was just a little teary. “What matters more… to them and to me… you’ll be _family_ … more than you are already. So if they’re a little over the top… that’s why.”

\----

Dorian blinked. He hadn’t expected Cullen to get so emotional over something like that. As it was, his mind had been far away thinking about engagement dinners he’d never have to go to or huge guest lists he’d never have to make. Back in the Imperium it was less about the merging of two families, or even making a new one together, and more about what one can get from the other. Truthfully, Dorian never really considered becoming ‘part of the family’ as something that was happening. The Rutherfords were wonderful people, kind and welcoming to him, but he’d always sort of viewed himself as outside of that. He was _Cullen’s boyfriend_ , now _Cullen’s fiance_ , and then _Cullen’s husband_ eventually. It was Cullen’s family and he would be... there.

“So long as they’re happy about it,” he mused. Rosalie would be, Dorian was reasonably sure about that much, and the others would probably not be _upset_ about it. Cullen’s parents might even be excited, but he assumed more for the fact that Cullen was happy and had his life mostly together now. That was something to celebrate, though, to be sure. He just didn’t really consider himself as part of that equation. “And you’re happy about it,” Dorian went on with a small smile, “because, you know, you’re playing your cards _so close_ to your chest about it all.”

\----

“... he says as if he hasn't been smiling under that mustache all night,” Cullen teased back. “And you know they will be. But, you know, if it's too much, tell me. I'll distract them… somehow.” He was happy Dorian was going, happier that he'd suggested it, but Cullen didn't want him to be uncomfortable… not when the news was this good.

 _Marriage. Married. Me… to him,_ Cullen thought and grinned as another wave of joyful disbelief washed over him. Back when they'd moved in together, it had taken a good long while for him to stop smiling each time he'd thought of Dorian's apartment as _home._ He could only imagine it would take longer for this development to become normal. Part of him thought maybe it never would, and he'd go on blushing and smiling when he really thought about it. But that was just fine.

\----

He leaned in and rested his head against Cullen’s broad shoulder, “So long as they don’t start making too many demands, I should be fine with it,” Dorian commented. It was supposed to be about them, after all. Them together. Husbands together. Maker help him, Dorian had never thought that statement would ever be possible. His gaze lowered to look down at the ring on his finger. It fit perfectly, but he was so aware of it. Somehow it felt warmer, like it had been warmed by Cullen’s skin so he could feel it against his own, and Dorian hoped it always felt like that.

“I’m excited to tell them,” he went on, “just remind me to wear a couple of extra layers so I don’t get a bruised rib from all the hugging.”

\----

“Don't worry, I'll protect you from their excitement,” Cullen chuckled as he wrapped his arm around Dorian's shoulders and pulled him in closer. He buried his face in dark waves, pressing light kisses there and just breathing the man in. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his body so near his… even with the distraction of conversation, Cullen found himself floating. Happy. Ready to be home.

\----

Dorian grinned and curled in a bit closer, “Here,” he started and arranged them so his head was on Cullen’s chest. For the rest of the ride home, he stayed as close as he could and when they pulled back up to the building Dorian grabbed Cullen’s hand and tugged him out of the cab. With the car safely away, he pulled the other man into his arms and kissed him soundly. Maker, he wanted to kiss Cullen until they couldn’t breathe. Before that, though, he nipped at the other man’s lower lip and pressed in close.

“One thing before we go,” he prompted, and pulled out his phone to snap a picture of them pressed together, “I want a couple of these so we can say we took some and _didn’t_ just run back home to fall into bed until Monday.”

\----

“And what's wrong with that?” Cullen teased, but he leaned in to kiss Dorian's cheek as the camera snapped. Normally, he'd put up a bit more of a fight before he agreed - just for show, really - but not tonight. He wanted to save these memories, too. After a few more pictures from slightly different angles, Cullen grinned and tugged Dorian's hand, nodding to the door. “... so, about that falling into bed until Monday?”

\----

“Oh, I don’t know, _fiance_ ,” Dorian teased as he quickly sent one of the pictures, the one with both their rings visible, to Felix. He expected a call or at the very least a message with many exclamation points within the next five minutes. “We do have to go to your parents’,” he pointed out, “but I imagine by tomorrow night we’ll need to break before someone gets friction burn, what do you think?”

\----

Cullen scrunched his nose at that as he led Dorian through the doors and up the stairs to their apartment. “I assumed it was a figure of speech, _fiance,_ ” he returned with a grin over his shoulder. “Unless you've been holding out on me?”

Maker, his blood was already running hot, and it was all he could do to _not_ just turn and get things started right there on the flight of stairs. For a heated moment, he imagined it, and his steps faltered a bit as he thought to turn… but the door opening behind them and the conversation of strangers made him belay that urge. Ah well, they were just a few steps from their door… and their bed. Or couch. Or the counter. Wherever they ended up.

\----

Dorian got them inside and when he shut the door behind him he grabbed two hands full of Cullen’s vest and shirt before he pushed the other man up against it. “Maybe I should turn this into an all night situation,” he all but purred as he leaned up for a kiss, “start off our journey toward married life by teasing you for _hours_.” A wicked smile had spread across Dorian’s features, and he stepped in closer so their chests were pressed together and it was more Dorian’s body instead of his hands pinning Cullen in place. 

“Marriages are almost completely miserable things in the Imperium,” he murmured against Cullen’s lips, “unhappy, sexless, obligatory... I _won’t_ have that.” Grey eyes lifted up to meet amber ones and Dorian kissed him again, “I love you with all my heart and I’m going to show you _every day_ , or... night, too, I suppose, that I do. Somehow, some way, I will. I promise you that.”

\----

Oh, that delightfully fuzzy feeling was humming around the edges of his mind now, and Cullen allowed Dorian to press him, to push him as the man saw fit. He could have fought back, pushing Dorian as he was being pushed, but sometimes… sometimes it was just so much better to just let go and let Dorian take the lead. A groan bubbled up from Cullen’s chest and a shiver went down his spine when he felt the pressure of Dorian’s advance and the words - _teasing you for hours -_ slipped from his tongue. _Good. So good. Maker, yes. So good._ Cullen’s hands wound around Dorian’s waist under his jacket to pull at fabric and feel warm skin.

But then Dorian was speaking again through those kisses and that loop of _yes, please, yes_ in Cullen’s head. His eyes were already blown wide with want, face flushed and body reacting to Dorian’s every movement, but those words… they seemed important, and the fog broke… enough. “We’d _never_ … be like that,” he practically panted into Dorian’s ear, “We… care too much… love too much… for it to ever... “ Cullen was trying to form coherent thoughts, but Maker, it was so hard with Dorian pressed so tightly against him. “... and you don’t have to find a way to show me your love… I see it, Dorian. I know. I _know_.”

\----

Maker help him, but there wasn’t anything better than Cullen breathing hot and heavy in his ear. Dorian lived to make the other man crazy, and every time he managed to work him up like that was always a wonderful experience. The sight of amber eyes almost black with lust made his own knees weak, and Dorian kissed him again. His hands started to undo the buttons of Cullen’s vest and shirt, and when they were both open Dorian grabbed at the warm skin at Cullen’s hips to pull them even closer.

“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you,” he murmured up into Cullen’s ear, “Come on.”

The fact that Cullen knew, lust clouding his senses or not, that Dorian would do whatever he could made him feel that much better about it all. Since they’d decided to get back together properly, Dorian had made it his personal mission to lay his desire to support Cullen and be there for him out there plainly. Cullen had done much the same. They’d decided, mutually, to be the support the other needed without relying solely on each other for happiness and safety and healing. That wasn’t a sustainable way to live, which they’d already lived, and they were so much happier now. Still, Dorian did make it a point to show his affection and his willingness to just... be there every day.

He started to push Cullen’s shirt and vest off his shoulders so he could drag his hands over that warm skin. Already, he was moving back toward the bedroom with that same wicked smirk. The things he’d do to Cullen indeed.

\----

_Maker, yes._

The friction and slight scratch of Dorian’s nails across his skin, the way he’d been pinned against the door as those bronze hands and soft lips went to work, the warm breath against his ear as Dorian made his promises, all of these things combined to set something alight in Cullen’s mind. It was a need, insistent and powerful, that he could describe no better than he’d just been able to reply to Dorian in complete sentences. All he knew was that tonight, he wanted to _be pushed._ That idea dominated his mind and sent chills of anticipation across his too-sensitive skin.  

“Dorian… yes… please,” he moaned against the soft stretch of skin along Dorian’s neck. “Just… fucking _take me._ I want you to… to _wreck_ me. _Please_.” Cullen heard the whine in his voice, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that at any other time, he would have died before saying something as direct as that. He didn’t care because it was ok for Dorian to know how much Cullen needed him like this. It was ok to be vulnerable or open or honest because of the trust between them. Cullen knew that Dorian would never go too far or make him feel lesser for the things he wanted or needed, and he was sure Dorian knew that the same applied to him. It was a sign of just how healthy they were together that they could open up like that in the bedroom. It was… liberating, and the part of him that was still _aware_ smiled to know that he would have this for the rest of his life.

Cullen let Dorian pull him to the bedroom as he shrugged out of his shirt and vest, letting them stay where they fell. Once there, his own fingers moved, hastily working with the buttons on Dorian’s shirt to reveal all that deliciously smooth skin under it. The man was truly a sight to behold, bronze and toned and all Cullen’s. _Beautiful_ he thought, as he always did from the very first time right through to this moment. “I love you,” he sighed against Dorian’s lips. “I love you,” he sighed again as he closed his eyes. “I _need_ you.”

\----

Hearing the other man beg like that half turned Dorian’s knees to water and half made him feel like the most smug motherfucker in all of Thedas. To have Cullen Rutherford begging for _him_ was probably the most amazing thing. They played a bit like this regularly, but something about that whispered need and how Cullen seemed to melt against him was a good sign that it wasn’t _just_ a game. It was something else, something Dorian had learned that he needed to trust both himself and Cullen in that there would be no judgement for what the other needed or wanted, and he was more than eager to give Cullen whatever he needed.

One hand lifted to tangle in those blond waves so he could keep Cullen’s mouth close to his own and Dorian smiled, “I’ve got you,” he promised before he nipped at Cullen’s lower lip. Maker, _he_ was shaking a little for how powerful Cullen’s words were. It wasn’t nerves, not really, but instead something deep down and wonderful. So Dorian kissed him, long and heated and deep, and when he finally came back up for breath he tugged a bit at Cullen’s hair and smiled, “get out of the rest of those clothes,” Dorian instructed, “I’ll take care of you.”

\----

And he did. They moved together, panting and sweating and breathless, late into the night until they'd both been sated. Until there was nothing but the two of them in all the world and the only things that mattered were the waves of senses that rocked them in the dark and the beat of their hearts. As the night stretched into the early hours of the morning and they'd reached fulfillment in each other, Cullen curled around Dorian as completely as he could, resting his head against that heaving chest and listening to the sounds of his heart. That heartbeat, it was more precious to him than anything, because he knew it beat strong and sure for him, as Cullen's did for Dorian. He sighed, entirely content, completely spent, exhausted and aching - but in all the best ways - as his eyes caught the glint of the dim light shining off the smooth surface of the ring that now sat on the third finger of his left hand. It was comfortable. It was right. It belonged there. _For the rest of my life_ , he thought and smiled to himself as he felt sleep take him.

\----

The next evening, after they’d slept late and woke to have each other again, Dorian shrugged into his coat and went to grab a pair of shoes from the closet. Today could have been any day, any day they had off at the same time, but it was the first day of their _engagement_. Maker help him, they were engaged. Still. It wasn’t quite a full day yet, but they hadn’t fucked it up enough that it had already been called off. Who would have thought that would happen?

Felix, of course, had sent Dorian ten messages of congratulations and questions and happiness. That was good, and he’d shown Cullen every message with so much excitement that Felix seemed so happy for them. “Are you ready?” Dorian called to Cullen as he grabbed out a scarf as well. It was going to be a bit of a trip to Honnleath on the train, which Dorian didn’t love but it was cheaper than a cab, and he contemplated grabbing a book to stuff into the pocket of his coat.

They were going to tell Cullen’s parents. They were going to tell Cullen’s parents they were _engaged_. Dorian was thrilled, to be sure, but he was also mildly terrified.

\----

Cullen heard Dorian calling for him from where he stood in the bathroom. He'd been just… standing there. Just standing there and looking at himself in the mirror, taking deep breaths and wondering how they'd tell his parents. He had no doubt they'd be over the moon, he'd told Dorian as much the night before, and he believed it… but it still made him fidgety with nervous energy, so he'd come in here alone to try and ground himself. The last thing he wanted was for Dorian to see the whites in his eyes. After the plan had been made last night… well, he hadn't had much time to think about what it was he should actually _say_.

“Mom, dad, we're getting married,” he said to his reflection and grinned as his heart fluttered. Simple. Just keep it simple and it would be ok. It would be ok either way, but Cullen couldn't take much more than simple after the evening… and night… and morning they'd had. He spared another look to make sure no… evidence showed above his collar, and made his way out to where Dorian was waiting. He looked a lot like Cullen felt - a bit anxious, a bit fidgety, but happy. He smiled as he moved close to kiss the other man's forehead and give him a squeeze. “I'm ready,” he agreed, “And so are you. We'll be fine. You'll be fine.”

\----

That was the mantra that went through his head throughout the whole walk to the train station as well as the ride to Cullen’s parents’ house. He’d held Cullen’s hand the whole way, squeezed it when he felt more of those nerves creep up on him, but every time Cullen turned to look at him and smile, it made him feel a little better. That smile, that infectious one that started off almost secretive and spread into something so warming and sweet, was going to be the death of him. Every expression Cullen wore was going to be the death of him. So he rested his cheek against Cullen’s shoulder as they rode, and Dorian closed his eyes while he tried hard not to think about what it would be like to tell his own parents of pending nuptials. He could only imagine the outrage, and he much preferred thinking about how happy Cullen’s family would be instead.

 _You’ll be fine_.

When they arrived at Lizzie and Stanton’s house, Mia and the kids had already been there for a while. It smelled like home cooked food and the air already felt like warmth and family. The first time Dorian had experienced that had been strange. He’d never walked into a home, not one that wasn’t his anyway, and felt that welcome out of nowhere. It was like it was full of laughter already, which it was thanks to the kids and Mia and Lizzie and Stanton, and Dorian couldn’t help but smile as they shrugged out of their coats and scarves and headed for the table in the kitchen which everyone was already lounging around while supper finished.

The requisite hugs and kisses happened then, and they settled in for a bit of a chat while Mia’s kids darted in and out as they either played or wanted to show off some... something. Dorian never really knew, but he’d learned to make all the right ooh and ahh sounds when they brought him something before inevitably scampering off again. That said, it didn’t stop them from all but dragging Cullen off to the living room to play, which Dorian smirked at. 

“Ten minutes and then you need to wash up for supper!” Mia instructed as she set out the plates at the table for the adults. The kids would be eating off easily handled paper in the living room.

Dorian, as usual, offered to help, but instead had been instructed to have a glass of wine and relax. That didn’t stop him from setting down glasses and pouring water, however, and as he did so he couldn’t help but look down at the newest addition to his jewelry. He’d spent a lot of time looking at the ring once they’d gotten up and going that afternoon, but it still surprised him. Maker... Maker, he hoped they’d all be happy.

\----

As the kids pulled him away, Cullen shot a questioning look Dorian’s way, but he seemed fine... if that little smirk the man returned at him was anything to go by, anyway. So, Cullen resigned himself to a few minutes of playtime before dinner with his niece and nephew. In truth, he loved it and missed spending time with them, so he was glad he could squeeze in a little time with them before dinner.

As he helped Gwen defend the “fort” (which was actually the space under the coffee table, enclosed by couch cushions and far too small for Cullen to actually enter) from the evil outlaw bandits (his nephew, Seth, and his impressive collection of action figures), Cullen couldn’t help but wonder at how normal all this was, considering the news he and Dorian were holding on to. In fact, this little slice of familial bliss was exactly what he needed to calm the nerves he’d been working to restrain all afternoon. It gave his mind something else to work on, sure, but it was also just… nice. Nice to be here. Nice to be a part of the family again, though Mia had told him sternly that he was only ever _not_ a part of the family in his own head.

When Mia called out that it was time to get washed up for dinner, Cullen’s voice joined the voices of the two kids in disappointed grumbling. “Aw, Mia, just 5 more minutes?” He grinned up at her from the floor. She just pursed her lips and shook her head as she walked back to the table.

“Your mom has spoken, kids. Time to wash your hands. Let’s go.”

All washed up, Cullen helped Mia get the kids situated with their plates before moving to fix his own. The Rutherfords weren’t ever the formal type - dinner was served up buffet style, so everyone was preoccupied with serving themselves before moving back to the table to sit together and eat. Eat and talk. And learn that their family was going to officially grow by one soon.

\----

There was something altogether wonderful about when they were treated to dinner with Cullen’s family. Dorian hadn’t grown up in a situation with a mother that cooked or where dinner was more than just a way to rehash his inadequacies at the end of the day. To have a huge spread of food, with very probably some dessert stashed away for later too, and nothing but smiles waiting for them was something that still felt foreign. Dorian sometimes had to remind himself that it was real and this wasn’t some movie or television show.

When everyone was served, Dorian settled himself in the chair beside Cullen and happily tucked into a small pile of mashed potatoes. This was the mythical ‘mom’s best’ that he’d heard rumors about, and now that he’d been shown what it was like to have something made for them with love and not just... well, a catering certificate, Dorian wasn’t sure he could ever go back. Then again, there was hopefully a certainty he’d never have to.

“So they let you have a weekend off?” Stanton asked Cullen as he picked up his beer to sip from it, “should have told me sooner. There’s all sorts of things that could be done around here.”

Mia snickered for that, “I’m pretty sure they didn’t come all the way out here to help you clean gutters, Dad,” and cast a glance over at Dorian, “right?”

“Well, it’s not me up on the ladder, now is it?” Dorian pointed out.

\----

“No, but that doesn’t stop you from directing safely from the ground,” Cullen teased, nudging Dorian’s arm gently before turning to his plate. He had no idea _when_ they were going to break the news; it only occurred to him now that they probably should have talked about that on their way here. Ah well, what’s done was done. Maybe after dinner proper was done, before dessert - that seemed like a good time for an announcement.

“But Dad, next time I’m off, I can come out,” he continued as he cut into the ham his mother had prepared for them. “Even if it’s just to clean gutters,” he continued and threw Mia a pointed look.

“As exciting as cleaning gutters and chores are, I want to hear how you boys are,” Lizzie cut in, “How’s work been treating you, Dorian? Anything interesting we can report back to Rosie… assuming she doesn’t know already.”

\----

“I’ll probably see Rosie next month, actually,” Dorian answered as he wiped at his lips, “it’s my yearly talk in Kenric’s class, so I’ll probably get to catch up with her for a night. I promise to try to be the voice of reason the next time bad karaoke comes up.”

Stanton tipped his head to the side as he watched Cullen cut some of the ham. It was something just in passing, but his eyes fell on a black band around one of his son’s fingers. Normally, he wouldn’t have noticed, not really, but it was such a stark difference to anything else that he couldn’t help but see it. Especially since, other than that ring on his thumb, Stanton hadn’t known Cullen to wear much in the way of jewelry. Then again, he noted with a small smile and a glance back toward Dorian’s wide array of rings, bracelets, a pendant on a necklace, that could just have been influence.

“If you’re going to clean gutters,” Stanton pointed out with a nod toward Cullen’s hand as he came back to himself, “you ought to leave the good jewelry at home. Did I ever tell you kids about me having to pull apart a hotel sink at three in the morning because your mother had knocked her wedding ring down the drain?”

That made Mia’s eyes widen and she cocked her head to the side to flash Cullen a wide grin, “ _good_ jewelry?” she asked.

\----

Cullen sucked in a surprised breath. Of all the people around the table right now, he hadn't dreamed his father would be the one to notice or make a comment. If he thought about it, it really should have been Mia noticing the ring she helped him pick for Dorian, but then again, Dorian's was joined by many others on nearly every finger. Cullen's was alone and in such stark contrast to his complexion… well, he should have seen this coming. He really should have.

He exchanged glances with Dorian. His expression said _Now? Is this ok?_ The little smile Dorian gave him said _Go ahead_. Cullen stretched a hand out over the table to wrap around Dorian's - to show solidarity as much as to ground him for this. “Mia's got the right of it. We, ah, we didn't come all the way out here for chores, no,” he breathed a shaky exhale and squeezed Dorian's hand to steady his own, “Dorian and I, we wanted to tell you that… we're engaged… we're getting married.” He clenched his jaw and looked around the table with searching eyes, waiting for a reaction. He was greeted with stunned silence.

\----

Stanton blinked. That wasn’t what he expected. He cast a glance to his left to Lizzie, then back to Cullen and Dorian, then let out a chuckle, “Truly?”

“Cullen’s been planning it for a while,” Mia explained, and quickly hopped out of her chair to hug them both, “I’m so happy for you! You have to tell us everything! How’d you do it? Let me see the ring!”

\----

A simple nod served as a reply to his father and Cullen patted his sister's arm absently when she hugged him, but his eyes were trained on his mother.

 

“Mom?” His voice cracked over that word as he prompted her for an answer. He'd shared the most about their tumultuous past with her. She knew all the broad strokes of how they met and what they put each other through, right up until Cullen left for treatment. So it was her that Cullen looked to, not for approval but for at least acceptance. He was sure she'd be happy, but her silence had him on edge.

Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes, the same amber-gold as Cullen's, were wide. He watched as those eyes grew glossy and wet with tears and she lowered her hand to reach for her husband’s. “Honey,” she breathed, her own voice cracking with emotion, “That's just… _wonderful_. Absolutely wonderful. The two of you… I couldn't be happier or more proud if I tried.”

Cullen released a breath he didn't even know he was holding as his whole body released the tension he'd been holding onto. He wiped at his eyes with one hand and squeezed Dorian's with his other. That was what he'd wanted to hear and more - he'd wanted his family to be happy, but to hear her say she was proud? It was enough to make his heart warm and bring on those tears he was wiping away.

“Thank you,” he breathed, “We'd hoped you'd all be happy.”

“We are, son,” Lizzie answered, “... now answer Mia's questions, you two. I want to hear all about it.”

\----

With a quick wipe of his hands, Stanton got to his feet and moved over past Mia to clap a hand on Cullen’s shoulder and then to pull his son to his feet for a hug, “Congratulations,” he told him with a few pats to the back before he stepped back to look into Cullen’s face, “I mean that. We’re all happy for you.”

Dorian smiled a bit as everyone went to hug each other, and he picked up his glass to take a sip. The smiles Cullen’s parents wore were heartening anyway. At least they seemed excited. For Cullen. It was important they were excited for Cullen. He’d worked so hard to get himself back to somewhere happy, which Dorian counted himself a part of, and he was glad to see that others noticed.

“I thought _you_ were proposing to _him_ ,” Mia pointed out to Cullen as she lifted his left hand to inspect the ring he wore, “right?”

\----

“Ahhh, about that,” Cullen began with a grin as he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “You're really not going to believe this…” He paused and flashed Dorian a little conspiratorial smile. “We may have had the same idea at about the same time. Actually, he got to it before I did.”

“What do you mean, honey?” Lizzie prompted as she rose to join her family. Cullen felt warmed as he noticed that she put her hand on Dorian's shoulder and gave it a good squeeze. He knew she likely wanted to hug him, knowing her, but she respected Dorian's boundaries, once she learned them, and wouldn't do anything to make him uncomfortable. In fact, they all did… well, maybe except Bran, but he was a whole other story. In any case, Cullen loved her, all of them, for that.

“Care to tell the tale?” he asked Dorian with a wink.

\----

That hand on his shoulder actually helped warm him a little, and Dorian got up to give both Mia and Lizzie a hug before he shook Stanton’s hand. For a moment, a few months ago when he’d really started considering the whole engagement thing, he’d wondered if it would be good to ask Cullen’s parents. After all, they’d been through this before with Cullen and the others, and since this wasn’t Cullen’s first marriage, he had to wonder what they thought.

Clearly good things.

“Only that we seem to share a brainwave on this kind of thing,” Dorian began, “apparently we’d both been planning it and went out one night, both of us with rings in our pockets.” He smoothed at his mustache then, “I just happened to get to it before he could, and... imagine my surprise when the answer included him pulling a ring out as well.”

\----

“Well, imagine _my_ surprise that he asked me first,” Cullen added with a laugh, “I mean, here I was, working myself up over _how am I going to ask_ and _what if he doesn’t want to_ and everything else… and he just _asks_. ‘Marry me’... just like that. I thought I’d heard wrong at first. What were the odds, right?”

“Apparently, very good,” Lizzie replied with a little grin aimed at both of them.

\----

“If I didn’t want to?” Dorian asked with a quick laugh, “did you really think I’d say no?”

Mia grinned, “You didn’t see how frantic he was about finding the perfect ring,” she pointed out, “I think I had ten emails with all these different pictures of ones and him asking which one I like best.”

Dorian looked down at his hand, studied the blue stone and how it seemed to almost sit flush against his skin. It was perfect. It was everything he’d ever hoped for in something like that: different, slightly artsy, unexpected. Then again, most everything about not only their engagement but their whole relationship was unexpected. “And here I pictured you going into some shop and knowing exactly what you wanted on the first go.”

\----

“In my defense, once I calmed down and stopped being ridiculous, I knew that one was the right one as soon as I saw it,” Cullen answered sheepishly, “... but before that, yes, it may have gotten a little out of hand.” He saw Mia smirk and open her mouth to reply. “Ok. A lot out of hand,” he cut in before she had the chance, waving his hand at her in defeat. He thought for a moment before he met Dorian’s eyes and offered a little smile, just for him. “I just… It’s important. I wanted it to be _right_.”

\----

He leaned in and kissed Cullen’s cheek, “It could have been one of those candy rings and it would have been right, amatus,” Dorian murmured in his ear, just for Cullen as the smirk had been just for him, and he pulled back again. “We were at a gallery for a showing a friend of mine’s doing,” Dorian explained, “it was... exceedingly romantic,” he offered, and chuckled a bit before he nodded to Mia and Lizzie, “to answer your question. Though neither of us actually got down on one knee, but I’m perfectly alright with that.”

“Well, that sounds about right, then,” Stanton laughed as he got back to his seat, “now, does this mean a toast to new family and that kind of thing? I would have gotten out the good bottle of wine if I knew.”

\----

“It's not too late, honey. I can go get it…” Lizzie started before she'd fully taken her seat.

“No, Mom, it's ok. Sit. Eat. You all cooked for us - that's special enough,” Cullen replied, gesturing to the spread she'd provided them.

“Nonsense,” Lizzie retorted with a matter-of-fact tone, “If I can't celebrate my son’s happiness, what can I?” Not to be deterred, she and Mia went into the kitchen to retrieve the bottle and enough glasses for everyone. After the wine had been uncorked and poured, everyone raised their glasses. “To happiness and new beginnings,” she said and caught Dorian's eyes before continuing, “and new _family_.”

\----

Immediately Dorian blushed and actually had to lower his gaze a bit before anyone saw it. He couldn’t help the slightly nervous chuckle that escaped him, and he licked his lips, “I... am very honored,” he told them softly, “to be part of your family.”

Stanton sipped from his drink before he smiled again, “Anyone who makes Cullen smile like _that_ is already family,” he pointed out, “which means you’ve been since before we met you.”

\----

Cullen blinked, eyes wide and a pleased smile forming on his lips as he reached for Dorian’s hand. Stanton Rutherford was a man of few words, but when he did speak up, his words were always carefully chosen and full of meaning. To hear him say that, to know he was entirely sincere - it touched Cullen in the same way that he’d been touched when his mom had moved to squeeze Dorian’s shoulder earlier. They truly saw Dorian as one of their own; they had for a long time. The engagement was just making it official.

“Which may not always be an easy thing. Maker knows, we have our days,” Lizzie added with a laugh, “But we love you… both of you… and we just couldn’t be more proud or happy.”

\----

“Funny, that,” Dorian chuckled as he squeezed Cullen’s hand, “I was feeling much the same.”


	9. It's a Nice Day for a... [1 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian has a few surprises for Cullen.

Secretly, when Cullen was at work at night or when he had some time to kill on his own, Dorian rather enjoyed watching some of the very obviously scripted wedding shows that came on the various Lifestyle networks. His favorites were the ones of women trying on dresses with seemingly no budget, but he also really enjoyed the ones that were all about creating the ‘perfect’ wedding and everything else. He’d never told Cullen as much, just because being unceremoniously teased (even if it was all in good fun) about it wasn’t really something he wanted. They all had much the same message though: wedding plans are so stressful but so much fun!

They were and it really kind of wasn’t. They were five months into this engagement, which was actually quite short by Imperium standards, but Dorian just felt... well, stalled. It was all anyone wanted to talk about: venues, catering, guests, honeymoon, flowers. Everyone had opinions, everyone had stories, and Dorian had rather learned to just paint a smile on his face and nod as they talked. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the opinions or the help, but he’d spent so long figuring this would never happen to _him_ that spending all this time worrying about matching suits and whether Aunt Ruth would get too plastered on pink wine seemed pointless.

It was just as much work as his job, really, and as he sat at his desk in his office flicking through his email, Dorian rested his cheek against his hand and sighed. He just wanted to be Cullen’s husband. After everything they’d gone through, every hurt and worry and guilt and putting it all back together, Dorian didn’t care all that much about a Chantry building and making sure it was on a day where everyone could get the time off, but also booked far ahead enough that they could get space they wanted. It would be another year before this even _happened_ at this rate.

And then, in what could possibly be described as ‘divine providence,’ Dorian opened an email from Vivienne De Fer herself. Technically, she was part boss and part client, as she worked for the University of Orlais, and had become a rather good friend over the course of the last year or so. Since he’d gotten his promotion back... well, back when he and Cullen had gotten back together, they’d worked together on more than a few collections and pieces, and he’d even done a bit of appraising of her personal collection on the sly. She was _very_ good, and _very_ kind to those she deemed worthy of seeing that kindness. Thus far, Dorian had only been on the receiving end of theatre tickets and private dinner reservations, but it seemed his last little deal with a friend in Ostwick for one of her oil works she’d inherited had pushed him into a slightly tighter inner circle.

_Dearest Dorian,_

_I’m in need of someone to watch my house in Denerim, and I was hoping you might be available. Normally, I’d be in for the summer, but Bastien’s ill again, and I can’t make the journey. I can arrange it with my staff to let you on the property and see you have keys of your own so you can come and go._

_You ought to bring Cullen and spend some time together, my dear, you two haven’t had nearly enough time to celebrate on your own. Let me know if you’re available, and I’ll have a chat with you soon._

_Yours,_  
_Mdme Vivienne_

That afternoon he knew Cullen was off, and when Dorian came in the door he got out of his shoes and practically dumped his work bag and coat on the table before heading into the little nook Cullen had taken over as his music space. Dorian rather liked it, actually. He loved that Cullen had carved out some space of his own in _their_ home. Eventually, he’d have loved to set it up a bit more, but Cullen had declined every time. he seemed happy enough with the way it was, and that was what mattered most.

Dorian grinned as he watched Cullen working away on the laptop with those almost ridiculously oversized headphones clamped over his ears. They canceled out ambient noise, so he could focus on whatever it was he was mixing, Dorian knew that, but it often led to Dorian having to knock on the little space beside the computer as to not completely scare him. This time, however, Dorian delighted in being able to sneak up, and he leaned over to wind his arms around Cullen’s shoulders from behind as he kissed his cheek.

\----

Only five months in, and Cullen could already tell this whole wedding planning thing was taxing Dorian in a way he hadn't seen in a while. There were so many small details, it made Cullen's head spin a bit himself, and he knew Dorian was a consummate perfectionist in all things… aesthetic. In most things, from the way he styled his hair to how he carried himself, it was endearing. But now, that streak of obsessive was wearing him thin, and they hadn't even set a date yet.

For the most part, when Mia or his parents asked, Cullen just grinned and responded _it'll work out._ And he believed that, but admittedly, he'd taken a backseat in the planning department with Ella. With Mias’s help, she'd attacked it with vigor and told him where and when to be for food tasting and fittings and practices. Thinking back now, it had all been exciting at first, but if he was being honest, it was… tedious. The time, the stress, the money - so much spent on a ceremony. But that was what they had to do, right? The urge to just head to the courthouse and be done with it was high, but he'd done this before. He didn't want to deprive Dorian of his chance. The man loved a party, after all. It was a shame there was just so much stress. They'd dealt with so much _bad_ to get where they were… he just wanted this leg of the journey to be what it should be - full of love and laughter as they were joined in front of family and friends.

The logistics behind that, however, were apparently a nightmare. And Cullen hadn't done much in the way of helping so far - he was still just happy they were engaged. Still, he wouldn't see the man he loved worked to the bone over something that was supposed to make them happy. It was about time he seriously pitched in.

Which is how he found himself sitting in his little nook with his laptop open and headphones on, researching things from locations to photographers and watching a whole host of helpful tips and how to videos online. He'd only been at it two hours, and already he felt a little bit like kicking a puppy. He would _never,_ of course... but still.

He'd just clicked play on a video detailing how one particularly lavish wedding came together, when he felt arms snaking around his shoulders. His heart leapt into his throat, and he jerked as he slammed his laptop shut almost instinctively, though he had no reason to be ashamed of what he was doing. With a nervous chuckle, he raised a hand to pull those headphones off and turned his head to return that kiss.

“Maker, I saw my life flash before my eyes,” he laughed, “Feeling sneaky today?”

\----

“It’s not my fault you can’t hear me coming,” Dorian teased as he nuzzled his face in against those blond waves, “looking at something interesting?” Cullen rarely closed down his computer when Dorian came up, which had him a bit intrigued, and he smirked a bit as he nipped at Cullen’s earlobe, “something _naughty_ , maybe?”

His hands smoothed down the other man’s chest to rest at his waist and Dorian leaned in closer, “Maybe something for inspiration?” Oh, how he did love making Cullen blush after all this time. He’d had something he wanted to talk to him about, but it could certainly wait if Cullen had other things on his mind.

\----

Amber eyes widened under raised brows. _Maker, he thought I was watching…_ Cullen felt that telltale flush creeping up his face. At least Dorian would be tickled - turning Cullen's cheeks pink on purpose seemed to be the man's favorite pastime.

“Only if you consider spending a fortune on an outfit you'll only wear once _naughty_ ,” he grumbled, albeit with a grin. “Which, I think, qualifies.” Cullen opened his laptop again with a sigh. The screen lit, and he gestured to what he'd been watching as well as the dozens of tabs he had working as he flitted from one site to the other. “I… ah… I thought it was time I started helping you out,” he explained and pinched the bridge of his nose, “but sweet Andraste, where do you _begin_?”

\----

Dorian’s eyes widened. He’d mostly suspected Cullen would be the silent partner in a lot of the planning, which left him holding more than his fair share of things to worry about, but the fact that Cullen wanted to help really did make a bolt of something warm go through Dorian’s chest. Cullen was actually _interested,_ and that meant more to him than he could have ever hoped for. So he wrapped their hands together, the ones that their rings were worn on, and Dorian squeezed, “I actually wanted to talk to you about... well, all this.”

He moved a bit so he was on his knee beside Cullen’s chair and he pulled Cullen’s left hand in so he could kiss the ring he’d slid on the other man’s finger five months before. Dorian took a breath, smiled, and leaned his elbows on Cullen’s knees, “Will you marry me?” he asked with a smile, “and I don’t mean in a year when the Chantry we look at has an opening or when everyone can take the day off work to travel or whatever. Say, maybe, in three weeks when Bran and Rosie are in town for their holiday?”

\----

This evening was just one surprise after another, it seemed. Cullen had smiled softly as Dorian knelt beside him and kissed his hand, but then he'd said those words - _marry me_ \- and Cullen's heart was pounding as that smile grew wider. From the way his chest fluttered, it was almost like that was the first time he'd heard that question… even though they'd been engaged almost half a year by now.

But then Dorian kept going. Three weeks? Cullen cast a nervous glance at all the tabs open on his laptop. So much preparation in such a short time… “Oh, I'm definitely marrying you,” he began as he lifted Dorian's hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “But Dorian… _three weeks_?” A note of incredulity was present in his voice as he gestured to the screen in front of him. “ _How?_ ”

\----

He nodded back toward the living room, “Can we go sit somewhere I don’t have to kneel on the floor?” Dorian teased as he got to his feet and tugged Cullen up with him, “I was just... thinking that maybe we’re going about it the wrong way. Why make it stressful for _months_?”

As they got settled on the couch, Dorian stretched out a bit so his feet were sitting in Cullen’s lap and his head was propped up on his arm, “I got an email today from Vivienne de Fer asking if I could house sit at her rather gorgeous property in Denerim. She was going to come down for the festivals, but her husband is ill and they can’t make it. Then she said you and I should go and have some time alone,” he explained. Then, of course, came the sparkle in Dorian’s eyes. He grinned and sat up a bit, reached out to take Cullen’s hand back in his, and looked into those beautiful amber eyes, “And I was _thinking_... it’s a beautiful place. It’s huge. There’s... a pool and plenty of rooms and a huge kitchen and deck and even a gazebo. So why not invite everyone there and just... do it? It’s pretty enough we wouldn’t have to do much work decorating, we can... steal the giant barbeque grill and just have steaks or burgers or whatever we want, and there’s more than enough room for everyone to stay. What do you think?”

\----

As Cullen listened to Dorian go on, the look of skepticism he'd worn melted into relief and then delight. It was fast, sure, but it could work. It could work without the pressure that would have added bitterness to what was supposed to be a wonderful thing. There'd be none of the inevitable bickering over details that, in the long run, didn't matter. There'd be no appointments to taste cake or planning rehearsal dinners or any of that. Just two people in love having an actual good time on their wedding day.

And Cullen was beyond ready to call the man sitting next to him _husband_. He'd been ready for longer than he even knew himself, truth be told.

“It sounds fairly perfect,” Cullen grinned and squeezed Dorian's hand right back. “If… if you're sure? You don't want a whole… production? You know, and I'm hoping, this'll be your only chance…”

\----

“The only production I want is us actually saying the words and signing all the right paperwork,” he answered, “everything else is just... bonus, and if I had to pick a bonus I’d pick a gorgeous backyard party that’s just us and family and friends and not something so big that it’ll just make us stress out.”

He leaned over and kissed Cullen’s lips then. All the planning and waiting seemed pointless when they could just _be_ together. Besides, this had the chance to be much more fun and relaxed anyway. “The perfect wedding is the one where we’re both there and we’re having a good time,” he went on, “and... I think this could be it. I can talk to Vivienne and make sure it’s alright, so long as it’s just a small party, and we can invite everyone down. Felix too, perhaps? And Sera and Dagna, and... Josephine and Leliana from work, and if there’s anyone else you’d want to be there? Small.”

A devious look crossed Dorian face then and his grin grew, “What _if_ , right? What if we didn’t even tell them? I mean, maybe... Felix, so he knows why he’s coming all the way here, but what if we didn’t tell them and just said we were inviting them for a little vacation since everyone’s in town? It could be like a surprise elopement, but with everyone there! Would your parents hate it?”

\----

Cullen breathed a little laugh and grinned, “Yeah, can you imagine their faces?” And then he met Dorian's eyes, and there was that _gleam_ he got when he was planning something particularly mischievous. Cullen could see the gears already working to make this little scheme a reality, and he couldn't help but laugh. “You're serious, aren't you? You think we could keep something like that secret? Have you _ever_ tried to keep a secret from my sister?”

\----

“What?” Dorian asked with a laugh, “I mean... okay, maybe we tell Mia so she can help out a bit to make sure everyone agrees to go, if you think that might be better, but why _not_?” The thought was just so fucking thrilling and fun that Dorian was practically bouncing in his seat. “Let them think we’ve invited them all for a nice family vacation somewhere nice and then... surprise! Wedding ceremony and cookout dinner. What would be so wrong with that?”

\----

Dorian's excitement was infectious. Cullen smirked and ran his tongue over his teeth as his eyes narrowed and he imagined how they'd all react. Maker, wouldn't that just be the _best_? “You know, if we did recruit Mia, she'd help convince mom and dad…” he mused out loud before that mischievous glint grew in his own eyes, “No. No way. _I'm_ finally gonna get _her_.” He met Dorian's gaze then and smiled, wide and open, eyes bright with eagerness and just… glee. “Let's do it. I'll find a way to get my side there without spoiling it, somehow… and you'll get yours… and it'll be amazing.” His face softened then as he took one of Dorian's hands into both of his own, “Even if it falls flat and we have to spoil the surprise, though… it'll still be amazing. Because we'll be there, you and me, and we'll be married in… Maker, less than a month.” He thought on that for a moment and nodded, “Yeah, this feels right. I'm more than ready.”

\----

He smiled then and leaned in for a kiss before he paused, “I... it might just be Felix and Sera and Dagna for me. Felix might bring his girlfriend, but I can’t ask him to bring Gereon and Livia. They’ll tell my parents, and…” Dorian shook his head. He wasn’t going to allow Halward and Aquinea to be there. No way. This was _their_ day and there was no way it would be _their_ day with them there. “It doesn’t bother you to just have your family there, does it? Just, I mean... they’re who _I_ want there, and I don’t feel the need to ruin it by inviting mine.”

\----

“Hey, you,” Cullen prompted as he raised a hand to cup Dorian’s face and let his thumb stroke over that smooth, bronze cheek. “This isn’t about anyone but us and the people we love… the people we want to be with us. Anyone who doesn’t fit that bill _shouldn’t_ be there, as far as I’m concerned.” As always, thoughts of Dorian’s parents made Cullen’s skin crawl and his heart ache for the man. Still, they were his parents, and if Dorian had wanted them there, Cullen would have played nice - or tried to. But if he was being honest, _Cullen_ didn’t want that dark cloud hanging over them on their wedding day… he was relieved that Dorian felt the same way. That relief came with a little guilt, though - guilt that Dorian had never had the same kind of relationship with his family that Cullen had, and guilt that Cullen had nearly destroyed that relationship without realizing how lucky he really was.

“We invite who we want, and no one else, ok?”

\----

Dorian nodded and moved so he could be wrapped up in Cullen’s arms. He leaned up and in so he could nuzzle his face in Cullen’s neck and breathed in just how wonderful the other man smelled. “So you want to marry me in less than a month?” he asked playfully against Cullen’s pulse, “be my _husband_ in less than a month? So we can be _married?_ ” He did rather love saying those words as often as he could. They always made his heart beat faster, and the look Cullen gave him was so worth it.

“I want this to be something small and fun and easy,” Dorian went on, “I think we kind of deserve that.”

\----

“No,” Cullen replied, voice suddenly serious, though there was a light in his eyes. “I _don’t_ want to marry you in less than a month.” He paused there for a moment, just to see if he got a reaction to his little ruse, but he couldn’t let that statement stand for long. “I _want_ to marry you tonight. Right now, if we could. The courthouse is just a quick train ride away, you know,” there was a note of teasing in his voice, but he wasn’t _exactly_ joking. Cullen tightened his hold on Dorian and kissed his forehead gently before continuing, “But then we’d miss out on the big surprise, and what fun would that be? …which yes, we do kind of deserve, so I suppose I can wait three weeks to call you _husband._ ”

\----

He smiled, “You could call me that _now_ ,” Dorian pointed out, “and I suppose we _could_ go get it done at the courthouse so what we do at this surprise thing is just for the family. That would save us having to get someone to officiate.”

It was a nice though. Long day as it had been, Dorian would have gotten up immediately and gone with Cullen to do it if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t a bad idea, either. But they could do that anytime between now and then. Though it was rather exciting to think about just getting up and going.

Dorian leaned in and rested his forehead against Cullen’s then, “I’d marry you right this minute if I could.”

\----

Cullen chuckled as he took stock of where they were now. Three years ago, he'd have never placed himself on this couch, in this home he shared with the man he loved, discussing the best time to get married, of all things. He'd locked that part of himself away, but Dorian had dragged it out of him - whether he'd wanted to at the time or not.

No, three years wasn't a very long time at all, but they'd both changed, they'd both grown. Almost unbearably painful at times and easy as a breeze at others, they were both better for having known one another, even if theirs had been an… unconventional romance.

No, nothing they'd ever done had been _conventional_ , why should their wedding be?

But, as exciting as the idea of getting it done now was, and it was _very_ appealing, there was a part of Cullen that wanted a _little_ bit of tradition. At least where standing in front of those he loved and joining his life with Dorian’s was concerned. That part wanted to say his vows - for real - so his family could hear them… so they could really witness the moment when he became Dorian’s and Dorian became his for… well, forever.

He tilted his chin to press his lips to Dorian’s and smiled through that kiss as the warmth he always felt spread. It lingered, and Cullen didn’t want to pull away, though he finally did. “I feel the same… but maybe we should wait? I… it might be silly, but I just want them to… to see it, you know?” He let a soft laugh escape his lips and continued, “Didn’t mean to get your hopes up. It’s just.. considering what I’ve put them through… it would make them happy. It would make me happy for them to be there when it really, you know, happens.”

\----

One hand lifted to tangle in Cullen’s hair as they kissed, and when Cullen spoke Dorian smiled. There was something so delightfully traditional about it, and it warmed Dorian from the top of his head down to his feet. Maker, Cullen was so sweet it hurt sometimes. He traced his fingers through those soft waves and leaned up to nuzzle his face into Cullen’s neck again.

“It would make me happy too,” Dorian agreed, “they’ve already sort of adopted me, and I think it would be wonderful for them to see an actual ceremony. We’ll... figure out a way to make that happen, even if I have to ask Felix to do a quick internet thing and get ordained or something.”

\----

“Thank you,” Cullen breathed as he nuzzled his nose against the tip of Dorian’s. “It’ll be good to see Felix again,” he added. Felix was a big part of Dorian’s life - he’d been a huge source of support before Dorian even knew Cullen existed, and Cullen suspected that wouldn’t change. “I think it’d be fitting to have someone who’s so important to you pronounce us Mr. and Mr…”

Cullen blinked and pulled back to look Dorian in the eyes. They actually… they hadn’t talked about last names and whether they’d change or, if so, _how._ In one respect, it was just a name - the connection was far more important than legal paperwork… but in another, it was a little symbolic, wasn’t it?

Still… Cullen _Pavus?_ Dorian _Rutherford?_ Neither of those felt quite right in Cullen’s mind. 

“You know, I don’t know _what_ he’ll pronounce us, other than husband and husband. Have you… have you put any thought into it at all? Is a name change even something you’d consider?”

\----

One eyebrow cocked and Dorian ran his fingers through Cullen’s hair again, “Is it something you’d consider?” he asked, “I... might not like my family, and I do love yours, but I just don’t think I’m quite Fereldan enough to pull off being a Rutherford.”

He searched those beautiful amber eyes for a long moment and smiled, “How do you feel about a hyphen, maybe?”

\----

“A hyphen, huh?” Cullen rubbed a hand over the scruff at his jaw as he thought. Rutherford-Pavus. Pavus-Rutherford. Either way, he liked it. No, that wasn't strong enough. “I love it,” he replied with a nod, “It's more like… putting two together than trying to, I don't know, trying to replace one with the other. Though, Maker, my name’s already a mouthful,” he laughed. “Cullen Stanton Pavus-Rutherford. Or Cullen Stanton Rutherford-Pavus,” he mused out loud, experimenting with the new names and seeing how they felt on his tongue. Both felt… _good_ , and sent a little shiver of satisfaction down his spine. Whichever one they picked, that was who he was going to be.

He suddenly found it harder to wait.

“Which one, do you think?”

\----

Dorian considered that for a long moment as he studied Cullen’s face. Maker, the man was beautiful. All those strong features: jaw, nose, cheekbones; they all worked so well with that milky skin and gorgeous golden hair. Cullen had been so different to anyone Dorian had wanted in the past, so light and _good_ and sweet, and the fact that he wanted to share his _name_ was enough to make his insides melt a little. They would really be a family. A real one with people who loved each other and with other family that loved them too.

“I quite like Pavus-Rutherford, personally,” Dorian mused, “I might... for work, just keep my name as it is, but I think for everything else, I’d like to change it to that.” Again he smiled up into that handsome face, “I think it suits us both, don’t you think?”

\----

“Pavus-Rutherford it is, then,” he answered, more than a little shocked at the way his voice wavered and his eyes watered with those words. If he was like this over picking their new name, what would he be like at the actual ceremony? _A wreck,_ he thought, _an absolute blubbering, silly, happy wreck._ “It works well, and _so_ distinguished… I shall have to purchase a monocle, I think,” he teased with a laugh before his voice dropped into something more heartfelt. “Yes, it's perfect. I can’t wait,” he said as he leaned in to kiss the tip of Dorian's nose. “I love you, Dorian Pavus-Rutherford.”

\----

Immediately tears started to well up into his eyes, making them a bit red and wet, and Dorian let out a laugh, “You had better stop with that,” he managed after a moment, “or I’ll say we really should just go do the courthouse thing just so I can have that name properly.” Maker, that made him so happy. So, so happy. Both hands lifted to tangle in Cullen’s hair and he pulled the other man in for a long kiss before he smiled against those scarred lips, “and it _is_ very distinguished,” Dorian teased, “I love it.”

So they were agreed. Now Dorian just needed to talk to Vivienne, which he would do, and they could get it all figured out. It was still a little daunting, to be honest, but nowhere near what it would have been for the ceremony they’d already started looking at. It was going to be a quiet, simple affair. They deserved that. They deserved something small and good and intimate.

“I love _you_ , Cullen Pavus-Rutherford,” he murmured and kissed Cullen again.

\----

A wave of something soft and warm went through him, spreading from Cullen's chest and moving outward as Dorian said his new name. He still got butterflies in his stomach, and his heart fluttered every time Dorian said _I love you_ , even now. He probably always would, he guessed, and that was just fine. It was amazing how lucky Cullen was - he was marrying his best friend and lover all rolled into one. Not everyone was so fortunate, and he thanked the Maker each and every day for seeing them through the bad times and bringing them here. He swore to himself - _I'll never take this for granted_ \- and so far, he hadn't.

He pressed back into that kiss, turning it towards something a little more heated as he let his teeth graze Dorian's soft lips. He couldn't help it… the man was just so damn perfect.

“Good thing, too,” Cullen chuckled as they parted. “Or else all this would be a little silly.” He paused for a moment to take in just how truly beautiful Dorian was, from the little hook in his nose to his soft grey eyes to his warm heart. “And now we're, oh, about 200% farther along in planning this thing than we were two hours ago… I'd say that's cause for a little… celebration, wouldn't you?”

\----

_“Oh, darling, of course!”_

_“You’re sure it’s alright? It won’t be many people. Less than twenty, for sure.”_

_“Is that all? Surely you should have a garden full of people to watch you and Cullen get married.”_

_“We don’t know that many people, sadly.”_

_“Well, I’ll put you in touch with my florist and help pay for some of the flowers as a wedding gift, then, since I can’t be there myself. Make sure there’s someone there to take pictures, because I’d love to see them when I see you next.”_

_“You don’t have to do all that, just letting us have it there’s plenty-”_

_“I won’t hear another word against it. When you have a better estimate of how many will be there I’ll have some staff get the rooms ready so you won’t have to do anything when you get there. And do call my florist, he knows exactly what looks the best in the garden and he’ll make sure everything is perfect.”_

_“Thank you, Vivienne, really.”_

_“Oh, my dear, it’s a wonderful occasion! Tell Cullen I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person, but I hope to see him at the next showing when I’m in town.”_

_“I will. He told me to thank you for him too, so…”_

_“Of course, dear. I’ll chat to you soon.”_

They were a week out. Just one week. Oddly, it hadn’t been that stressful at all. Dorian watched the shows, now with Cullen since he knew the other man was actually interested, and this soon before a wedding, people were usually running around in a frenzy. Not them, though. Cullen had called his parents and siblings with the invitation to the property, which had gone over quite well, and things were pretty much set. All that was left was to pick up the marriage license in a couple of days and just show up, essentially.

Well, there was a bit more here and there. Dorian had called Felix to tell him the news, and the lovely man that he was had agreed both to the secrecy and to getting a quickie minister’s license. He’d been thrilled that Dorian asked him to do the ceremony, and had been texting him near constantly with how excited he was to come down there and see them and how wonderful it was. He felt like maybe there should have been... more. More nerves, more stress, more concern? But no. Dorian was just happy and getting the last minute things done that he needed to do.

But everything was done, mostly. They even had clothes to wear for the ceremony, since it was going to bright and clear and hot. Dorian had a feeling the pool was going to be a big hit. One of the last things, though, had been delivered to his office and Dorian had come home to wrap it. He and Cullen had _mostly_ agreed on no wedding gifts between them. They had rings, after all, and they had more than enough to make their flat a home. Dorian had listened to that, but he hadn’t exactly _bought_ anything. He’d just gotten something fixed up, is all.

So he waited for Cullen to get home with the gift bag sitting on the coffee table. He was so excited, so unable to focus, and he just couldn’t wait for Cullen to get home.

\----

Two weeks had just flown by. Ever since the plan was made and set in motion, the air had cleared - not that it had been oppressive, but there had been that uncomfortable undercurrent of stress that was just… gone. They had just about everything in order, actually, down to the little poolside barbecue that would follow. Everything had just clicked into place once they'd decided, and Cullen couldn't be happier. Even Mia, who he'd thought would be the hard sell, caved without much argument or questioning. Amazing what the words “free,” “vacation,” “bring the kids,” and “pool” could do, really.

And now, he was a week away from his wedding day. The thought was hard to believe, but there it was. Every time he thought about it, his heart would race a little and a crooked little smile would cross his face. He'd be going about his business, just normal every day stuff, and then _I'll be married in a week_ , and he'd have to take a little moment to get it out of his system. Garrett had teased him on more than one occasion over the past two weeks, in fact, ever since Cullen had put in for time off for the wedding.

Today, however, had been a bit rough. The client had been pushy and rude, which put everyone on a short fuse - one that got even shorter when the music was changed to something they hadn't practiced. It had been exhausting and stressful, and all Cullen could think of as he trudged up the stairs to their apartment was how he wanted to crash on the couch, preferably snuggled up with Dorian, and not move or think for several hours.

“Hey, you,” he greeted Dorian as he kicked his shoes off at the entrance. “Hope your day was better than mine.”

\----

“Uh oh,” Dorian asked as he moved to rested his chin on the back of the couch so he could watch Cullen come inside, “is this an ‘I need a glass of wine’ kind of day or ‘can we go get ice cream tonight’ kind of day?” He crooked his finger for the other man to come in closer and he smiled, “because there may be some of that dark chocolate mocha kind you like in the freezer.”

There was still some worry whenever Cullen said he had a bad day. It hadn’t been that bad in a long time, since the other man had his journals, his sponsor, and even Cole when he really needed it. Still, Dorian did like to spoil him when he’d come home with a headache or when whatever happened at the studio made him frown like that.

“But, um... maybe before that, I have something for you.”

\----

Immediately, Cullen's plans for the evening amended themselves to _crash on the couch with a pint of ice cream and two spoons_ as Dorian spoke and Cullen made his way to the back of the couch. He meant to bend down to kiss his soon-to-be-husband hello before heading to the fridge, but paused, half stooped when Dorian mentioned he had something for him.

An eyebrow cocked as Cullen finished his lean and pressed his lips to Dorian's. It was just a whisper of a kiss in greeting, but already Cullen felt more settled after such a tiresome day. Settled and now quite curious. “Better than a kiss or the pleasure of your company, you mean?” he teased with the hint of a smile as he leaned on his forearms against the couch so his face was level with Dorian's while they spoke. It had happened before, the coming home after Dorian had said he had something for Cullen, only to find out that Dorian meant himself. Those were… enjoyable evenings, and Cullen wondered if tonight would be similar.

Still, there was an anxious glint to Dorian's eye and something in his tone that told Cullen _maybe not_. He waited for Dorian's answer, feeling a little excitement rise in his own chest as he did.

\----

“Better?” he repeated and chuckled a bit, “that remains to be seen, but something nonetheless.” One hand reached out to run through those blond waves and Dorian smiled at Cullen. Those eyes were so warm and beautiful and they made Dorian’s insides melt every time Cullen turned them on him like this. Cullen often made Dorian feel like they were the only two people in the world, that Dorian was the most important thing Cullen was looking at, and where before it had been overwhelming, now it made him feel so perfectly cared for. Loved. Protected.

His fingers moved lower to press in against that knot that seemed to always be at the base of Cullen’s skull. That wasn’t a symptom of the withdrawal, Dorian had learned, but from the backaches Cullen got that sometimes spread into headaches. “I know we promised about gifts, but... I’m terrible at keeping those kinds of promises,” he answered with a nod toward the bag on the coffee table, “open it before you get cozy with the ice cream, maybe?”

\----

A low groan rumbled up from Cullen's chest of its own accord at those fingers pressing in against that damnable knot. He had a vision of sitting on the floor between Dorian's feet while he worked out more of those knots as they watched TV. After the day he'd had, he hoped things would go that way. The man knew how to make him unwind and let go of stress like no one else.

But first…

He rose and rounded the side of the couch to sink into his space beside Dorian, smiling and kissing the man's cheek as he did. “Dorian, what did you do?” he asked with a laugh. The man was entirely too thoughtful - Cullen could barely keep up - but Cullen had learned that he did these wonderful little things because he wanted to, not because he expected anything in return. Cullen chuckled as he pulled the bag onto the floor between his feet and remembered how, once upon a time, Dorian had proclaimed himself _not nice_ … right here on this very couch, actually. _Not nice, indeed._

The bag had a heft to it, which made him give Dorian a puzzled look. For his part, he just looked on, and Cullen set to work pulling tissue paper out, feeling like it was Midwinter come early. His fingers closed then on glass and some solid sort of material and he gripped it to pull out… a large frame.

“Oh, Dorian,” he murmured as he registered what he was looking at. His eyes pricked with sudden heat and one hand raised to cover his mouth. Within that frame were two items, two _significant_ items that managed to tie the two parts of his life together… perfectly. On the right side, the music Cullen had penned for the song he wrote for Dorian at their first proper Midwinter, and on the left… Ella’s quote.

_And in the end, the love you take_

_Is equal to the love you make_

The last time he'd laid eyes on this, it had been part of the trigger that sent him down a dark path that had nearly destroyed everything. But now? Now his heart swelled with love and gratitude. He'd wondered where it had gotten off to; whether Dorian had kept it or given it back to Mia. He was looking at the answer - for whatever reason, Dorian had held on to it this whole time. And now, he was giving it back to Cullen, mounted alongside the words that Cullen had written for him as a tribute to them and their struggle. It was.. overwhelming and he blinked to keep those hot tears back.

There it was. The call to be better that had meant so much to Ella and to him, and the proof that they were doing just that next to it.

Wet amber eyes stared at the contents of that frame, and for a moment all was still as Cullen waited for his heart to calm. “It's,” he started, but had to clear his throat before continuing, “Maker, it's _beautiful._ I… don't have any words except _thank you._ ”

\----

“I thought it was the only acceptable wedding gift,” he answered before he leaned in and kissed Cullen’s temple, “it got delivered today, and I thought maybe we could sort of share it as a present, hm?” Dorian leaned over and rested his chin on Cullen’s shoulder as he looked over both the written page Cullen had given him and the piece of Ella’s that he’d turned over in his hands a few times in indecision. Dorian had worried Cullen would hate it and be upset that he’d disturbed that part of him again.

In the end, Dorian’s sentimentality had won and it seemed to be the right answer.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, “and I think it should go up in the bedroom maybe.”

\----

With a sniffle, Cullen wiped at his eyes and carefully set the frame down on the table in front of them before turning to wrap his arms around Dorian as completely as he could, practically pulling the man into his lap as he did. Whether he liked it or not, the man was too sweet, too precious, and Cullen just had to have him in his arms, as close as he could get. He wanted to feel their hearts beating as he lost himself in that floating sort of warmth Dorian's presence caused.

With his head buried in under Dorian's jaw, Cullen just breathed in and out for a moment. “I love you, too,” he sighed, “You are… too good to me. By far.”

\----

“I am not,” Dorian chuckled as he wound his arms around Cullen’s neck to keep him close. He pressed soft kisses to the other man’s hair and hugged him tightly. Cullen had liked the gift, had loved it, and that had been the most important thing. It was all Dorian could have wanted.

He settled into Cullen’s lap to make it more comfortable and smiled, “and I think it’s important to have them both up here. For both of us.”

\----

“I agree,” Cullen murmured into Dorian's ear. The stress of the day, the asshole client, all of it seemed far away now in this comfortable embrace. _Forever,_ Cullen thought, _this is my forever._ And though he knew it wouldn't always be like this - that was just real life - there was an understanding that even during the rough times, their love and respect for one another would carry them through. As well as a good grounding in _history._

“It's good to… have a reminder. Of how far we've come. And how far we'll _go,_ ” he continued, “I know I… I put you through so much. More than anyone in their right mind would… well, it was a lot. Sometimes, I can't believe we're _here_ , considering, but I thank the Maker every day for you. For us.” He tilted his head up to press his lips to Dorian's forehead. “You're… my world, you know that, right?”

\----

Dorian curled his hands into Cullen’s shirt and pressed himself as close as he could be. Every word Cullen said sent a shiver down his back and tumbled something warm deep inside him. He felt so comfortable, so happy, like this. They loved each other so much, it was evident in every word or touch or gesture, and Dorian couldn’t have been happier.

“I know,” he answered softly before he nuzzled his face in against Cullen’s cheek, “and you’re mine. I just want to do right by you and by _us_ , alright?” Slowly, Dorian kissed his way along that scruffy cheek so he could capture Cullen’s lips with his own, “Let’s stay like this for a little while and then maybe we can think about that ice cream, hm? I’m seeing... lying here and not moving for much of anything for a while, what do you say?”

\----

“It's like you read my mind,” Cullen chuckled and returned that kiss. Yes. He just wanted to stay this way for as long as they could. It was… good for his soul. He moved so they could resettle back into a more comfortable position, and for a while, they just lay there together, Cullen's ear over Dorian's heart and legs tangled together. Before Dorian, he'd never been _held_ like this. Even before, he could never let go as completely as he could now, and he found it freeing. To trust and be trusted so fully that it was ok to be vulnerable and sometimes even a little needy was truly a wonderful feeling.

“Mmmm, this is more like it,” Cullen sighed happily as he listened to the undercurrent of Dorian’s beating heart.

\----

One hand smoothed through Cullen’s hair and Dorian set to working at that knot at the back of his head. He liked these moments, he liked the feeling of having Cullen tangled around him on the outside just as much as the man was tangled around him on the inside, and whenever he had the opportunity for it he liked to close his eyes and just _enjoy_. They woke like this most mornings and went to sleep like this most nights, and it was perfect. Cullen had managed to wrap himself around all of Dorian: his hurts and fears, happiness and excitement, success and failure, and Dorian rather liked it when the outside matched as well. He’d always felt like there was some small space between everything, some void that kept everything from intermingling comfortably inside his brain and in his heart, but when Cullen came along he’d realized it was just... love. He needed that love, the love Cullen gave him and the love it inspired in himself, so he could maybe _try harder_.

Cullen hadn’t been the only one who wanted to be better when the dust had settled, after all.

“Agreed,” Dorian sighed after a moment and turned to look back at the television. They could stay like that until the want for dinner roused them, but for now Dorian was content right where he was.


	10. It's a Nice Day for a... [2 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they arrive at their destination and nerves set in.

 

The rest of the week went by far too slowly and too quickly at the same time. They took a trip to the courthouse - not to elope, though there were several jokes tossed out to that effect - to get their marriage license and the paperwork Felix would have to sign so they could get the marriage certificate afterwards. Cullen made it through with minimum levels of giddy, but he did feel a fluttering when he wrote his intended name for the first time on the application. That done, there was nothing to do but… wait. Well, and make sure his parents knew how to check into their flight online, but that was really just a phone call.

_“Thanks for doing this, son. Your mother's over the moon about a real family vacation. We can't wait.”_

_“Neither can I, Dad.”_

And he couldn't. The last day of work before they were to leave dragged on and on. Cullen was working the board, which was usually something he loved to do because he really felt like he was directing the music that way… but not today. Today, he was distracted to no end, looking at the clock every three minutes and missing cues like it was his first day. After the second time the musicians stopped because they noticed something was off on their own, Garrett just clapped him on the back with a wide grin.

“Go on, get out of here,” he said with a wink. “I don't want to see you again till you're hitched.”

Cullen didn't have to be told twice. He packed his things, said goodbye, and shot out of there in record time. On the way home, he sent Dorian a message.

_[Send Message: Dorian (2:48 PM)] Haha! Got out early. I'll go ahead and get a jump on packing my stuff. Which will take 10 minutes. Wonder what to do with myself until you get home. <3_

_\----_

_[Send Message: Cullen (2:55 PM)] i can think of a few things ;P_

Dorian had made sure his last day was light and easy, which had partially been left up to Josephine and Leliana. They were completely thrilled to be invited, had spent the last two weeks wanting to know every detail as they came up, and had even done a little ‘congratulations’ lunch that included a small envelope with some ‘fun money’ from people at work. It had been really nice, and Dorian’s heart had swelled with the knowledge that there were people that liked him enough to be so happy for him.

By the time four o’clock had come, though, he was more than ready to go. His meetings had been put off, projects sent out so they had time to work without him there, and Leliana had shooed him off home with the promise to see him in a couple of days for the ceremony. Felix had been texting nonstop too, excitement palpable in his messages, about being thrilled to bring his girlfriend down with him and how happy he was to see both Dorian and Cullen again.

Most of Dorian’s stuff, the stuff he didn’t need for the morning, had been shucked into the couple of bags he was bringing. Of course, Cullen wouldn’t have much, but nine whole days of preparing for and then having wedded bliss demanded not only just comfortable clothes, but a whole host of fun things to take with him for the huge soaking tubs he knew Vivienne would have as well as the pool and hot tub. He was so thrilled. It had been a long time since he’d had a real vacation that wasn’t centered around work, and while the ceremony and everything else was important, this was _also_ a vacation for them too.

He got in the door, also in record time from leaving the office, and quickly made his way into the bedroom where Cullen was packing so he could all but tackle his fiance down onto the bed amidst clothes and toiletries and bags so he could straddle his hips and kiss him soundly. “I’m officially yours for the next nine days,” he murmured happily against those scarred lips, “and forever, too, but completely off with a ton of orders to not answer my phone for the next week. And I _need_ to kiss you.”

\----

“Luckily, I can oblige,” Cullen chuckled before pressing back into Dorian's kisses. Instinctively, his hands moved to rest on the crest of Dorian's hips, thumbs dragging slow circles through fabric. He loved it when Dorian pressed him, pushed him. He loved the warm weight of Dorian over him. He loved letting go and just kissing. These were some of his favorite things - they drove him wild - and if Dorian kept on, packing was going to just have to happen… later. “We could spend all nine days just like this if you like.”

\----

“Mm,” he hummed against Cullen’s mouth as he kissed him, “we do have to get married at some point.” Just that thought was so thrilling. The next time they came back to this flat they’d be _married_. Husbands. Together forever. There wasn’t anything as exciting, Dorian was convinced.

Dorian nipped at Cullen’s lower lip and grinned down at him, “Have I told you how happy I am?” he asked, “because I don’t know that I’ve ever been so excited in my life.”

\----

“Couldn't tell, love. Your poker face is extraordinary,” Cullen teased as he raised his hands to curl around the back of Dorian's neck and pull him back down for more kisses. He'd never get tired of kissing this man, on the contrary, he never seemed to get enough. The best part was that they had the rest of their lives to see if he ever got his fill - he suspected he wouldn't, but he'd give it an honest effort to see. “Don't let me fool you,” he breathed between kisses, “I had to get sent home. Couldn’t concentrate on anything that wasn't… you or being married to you.”

\----

“Bless Garrett Hawke, then,” Dorian murmured against Cullen’s lips, “remind me to send him something when we get back. A fruit basket, perhaps? Do you musical lot even eat fruit, or should it just be a basket of bourbon?” His grin was audible, so completely full of happiness as Dorian was, and he leaned in to nuzzle at Cullen’s nose. “Leliana sent me home as well,” he went on, “there was even a congratulatory lunch in my honor today. Everyone sends their happy blessings.”

One hand lifted to ruffle Cullen’s hair then, “how far into packing did you get, then? You’ve been home an hour or so, that should be enough time for you.”

\----

“You got a lunch? Now I feel cheated,” Cullen groused good naturedly and then smiled at the feeling of Dorian's fingers in his hair - it was yet another on his list of favorites. He doubted he'd ever grow it back out long again, but this was a good length for… most things. “I, uh, actually just got started with the packing,” he answered as his hands smoothed over Dorian's back to rest back at his hips. “So no, not done yet. Bet I still finish before you, though,” he teased and squeezed his fingers in a bit, just enough to be felt.

\----

A wicked grin touched Dorian’s face, “Oh, I _always_ make sure of that,” he teased before he leaned back down for a kiss, “but yes, I know you will. But at least now you have more than just a few shirts that I’m pretty sure you’ve had since Uni, judging by the state of them.”

He was loathe to move, but Dorian did eventually move off of Cullen’s hips so he could set to starting his own packing. That said, he did rock his hips in a completely unsubtle way before he slid off of Cullen and got to his feet. The bulk of the packing now was just clothes, at least, so it wouldn’t take _that_ long. Dorian was too excited to just sit there and chat about it, too. He wanted to hurry up and go. He wanted to be there already. Maker, he wanted to be Cullen’s _husband_ already.

\----

“You leave my shirts out of this. They're comfortable. And still… mostly together,” Cullen laughed as he rolled to his side, head resting on his hand and watched Dorian moving about, here and there, as he gathered his things. Amber eyes softened, and for the thousandth time that day, his insides went all _wibbly_ as he thought, _Married._

In truth, he hadn't started packing because he'd wanted to use that time alone to write his vows. There was the natural urge to just sing them - he was better waxing emotional through song - but no. No, he wanted to say them. He wanted to hold Dorian's hand, look into those perfect grey eyes, and tell him all the ways Cullen loved him and would love him until the end of their lives. The only problem was that, when he sat down in front of his laptop or opened a journal, the words wouldn't come. It wasn't that there was an absence of them… there were far too many, and they crowded and jostled for position in his mind. The blank screen or page… they both mocked him as he struggled to find a way to begin. Two days out, and he wasn't sure what it was that he wanted to say when it came time.

He groaned and rolled over onto his back again, an arm slung over his eyes. “So… do you think Felix will be there early enough to run through it? Or will we just… wing it?”

\----

“Do you think we’ll need the practice?” Dorian asked as he folded a pair of light chinos and tossed them into his bag. Cullen was far too gorgeous lying there like that, despite the groan and the arm over his face. He leaned over and kissed the top of Cullen’s head, “He gets in tomorrow morning,” he offered, “we could do a quick secret run through, if you want to.”

His own plans were... well, not terribly concrete. Dorian had his own vows... researched. He had to get reacquainted with a few things, and while he _knew_ what he was going to say he wasn’t so sure about how to fit it all together. It would work, though. Dorian knew it would. He had so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell Cullen in front of his family, their friends, and the Maker (should He be watching), but he knew that it would need to be fairly succinct. They had the rest of their lives to tell each other all the things they wanted, after all. For now, there were only a select few things that he wanted to be sure Cullen knew before they became man and... well, man. Man and husband.

“I’m just not sure when we’re going to go food shopping for everyone... should we wait til they all get there?” he mused, “So we can make sure everyone has what they want? I’ve never planned a _family_ get together before.”

\----

“As long as there's protein and carbs, they'll be happy,” Cullen replied, resting both hands  on his chest, “You know. Burgers. Potato salad. That kind of thing. Unless you want to push it more upscale and go in for steaks and chicken? Either way, I wouldn't get too bogged down in specific likes… but it might do us good to wait so we can get some help hauling it all in.”

So, he and Dorian would get there tonight, everyone else would come in tomorrow, and then the next day… they'd be married. Preparations could be explained by the effort it would take preparing and setting up such a large family meal. At some point, they'd slink off to get changed maybe, and then… well, then the actual ceremony. Which was still largely a question mark in Cullen's mind.

“But back to the ceremony… It's not so much needing practice as it is maybe needing an outline. You know,” Cullen said as he sat up on the edge of the bed and turned to keep watching Dorian moving from closet to drawers to bags. “First Felix says a little something to kick it off - ‘dearly beloved’ and all that - then one of us says something,” Cullen grinned and let his voice go a touch higher as he batted his eyes and affected his best Tevinter accent, “‘oh, Cullen, I love you soooo much’... that's you, by the way. Then the other says something,” and here he let his voice grow deeper and his own Fereldan accent amplified, “‘I know, I'm pretty awesome’... me, of course. And then Felix finishes it up - ‘so long as you both shall live’ - and then we both say ‘I do.’ Just so we know the order of events,” he finished with a self-satisfied smirk. The upcoming nuptials had him more than a little giddy, unwritten vows aside, and he considered his performance the height of hilarity. Cullen cocked an eyebrow and waited to see if he'd get a reaction. Dorian wasn't the only one who liked to tease, after all.

\----

Dorian paused in the middle of the room, eyebrows raised, as he listened to Cullen. He couldn’t stop the smile, couldn’t stop the way he sighed and shook his head, and certainly couldn’t stop how he rolled up the pair of underwear he he held in his hand before he went over to lightly _thwack_ the top of Cullen’s head with it. Maker help him, this was where he’d laid his affections. And, the Maker only knew, that Dorian would have it no other way. “Were you this nervous the last time?” Dorian asked with a small chuckle before wedged himself between Cullen’s knees and bent to kiss him, “I can send Felix a quick run down of that so he knows that’s what we’re thinking, since I’m pretty sure there’s no plan. But he’s been to more weddings than I have, so he would know better than I would.”

He tossed that rolled pair of underwear in the bag before he reached out to wind his arms around Cullen’s neck, “And you, by the way, are in an entirely silly mood. That brooding musician thing was just an act, wasn’t it? Now it’ll be bad puns and getting up to go to the Farmer’s Market on the weekends.” Dorian sighed, shook his head as if he were incredibly put out, then smiled a little, “I love you.”

\----

“I'm happy - can you blame me? Let's see,” he chuckled and let his face go thoughtful as he ticked off a list on his fingers. “1. I got off early. 2. I was tackled onto the bed by an insanely handsome man. 3. Who proceeded to kiss me silly 4. Who I'm marrying, by the way and 5. Who I have succeeded in tricking away from packing duties to come back and perhaps start the kissing again?” Cullen's face was hopeful as he wound his arms around Dorian's waist. He knew he should get up and toss his clothes in a bag, they had a flight to catch, after all, but a little distraction wouldn't be a bad thing. Just a moment more. “Ah, forgot one,” he added. “6. I love you, too.”

\----

A smile spread across his face as he let Cullen pull him in closer. He bent down to kiss him again, long and languid and sweet, and Dorian lifted a hand to tangle in that soft hair. “We should pack,” he murmured, “can we pick this back up in the inevitably oversized bed and bath when we get there?” Though that didn’t stop him from lifting a leg to press his knee on the side of the bed beside Cullen’s thigh so he was more in the other man’s lap, “you know... since you didn’t get a bachelor party. One last hurrah as a potentially single man?”

\----

“Mmmm, yes,” Cullen chuckled softly as he pressed little kisses along Dorian's jawline to his ear, “I've been deprived of my last night of debauchery. I'll have to ask for recompense,” he murmured into Dorian's ear before nipping at his earlobe. He pulled back then, all wide-eyed innocence, “Hey, I'm trying to pack here. You're being quite irresponsible, distracting me like this.”

\----

“You are ridiculous,” Dorian laughed as he reached up to muss Cullen’s hair with both hands. This man was going to be the death of him, and he knew it better than he knew himself. Maker help them both. He did move out of Cullen’s lap to get the rest of the packing done, though, and when he’d zipped up the last of the bags he folded his arms and looked out at everything they had: two suitcases, two garment bags, a smaller bag, and... that was it. That was everything. Nine days and they were set to both completely relax and _get married_.

He took a slightly shaky breath and looked up at Cullen ,” What, um...what time do we need to get to the airport?” he asked, “the flight leaves at seven or so, doesn’t it?”

\----

“7:30, so we should probably leave…” Cullen replied as he pulled his phone out to check the time. “Maker, right about now. What made us think we could work full days and still make it?”

The next few minutes were spent making sure they had everything - paperwork, boarding passes printed… Cullen's toothbrush. “Whoops,” he laughed as he stuffed it into a side pocket. After everything was double and triple checked and a cab called, they hauled their bags to the front door.

Before walking out and starting this latest leg of their journey, Cullen paused and looked back into the living room one last time. Back where so many things began and shifted and grew. “You know, we weathered several storms in here… many of them right there on that couch. And the next time we're back here… Maker, we'll be married. It's… hard to believe when you think about it, isn't it?” His voice was soft and his mind was faraway, drifting through their past - all the ups and downs of their unlikely love. He shook his head and smiled as he looked back at Dorian. “Ready?”

\----

“You’re getting nostalgic now,” he teased as he shouldered his messenger bag, “let’s go.” Dorian leaned in and kissed Cullen’s cheek, “and we come back we can have a few _more_ firsts in here, what do you say?”

The flight was short, thankfully, and the rest of the trip to Vivienne’s place was nice and easy. True to her word, Vivienne’s staff met them at the door with an extra key and promises that the florist had already come and gone. Flowers practically filled a sunroom - all white orchids and roses, and after a walk around the garden, Dorian had pointed out the gazebo that had been decked out with the same treatment. It was beautiful and absolutely perfect.

There was just enough food, courtesy of the maids, to get them through for dinner but they’d have to go shopping the next day. The rest of the night had been... well, both Cullen and Dorian had made good use of the amazing tub and the big, soft bed. It was their last night, technically, as single men. What better way to spend it, too, than together? They probably stayed up later than they should have, considering everything, but it was well worth it.

Dorian had woken before Cullen the next morning on a wave of nerves. He’d left Cullen in bed with a kiss and went downstairs to make some coffee. Felix was due in at ten, and it was just after nine now. He sat on a barstool in the kitchen with a hand around his mug. Dorian’s stomach was in knots and he just needed to be up and doing. He sat for a while, then got up to pace until Felix rang to say they were on the way.

Maker, was this what cold feet felt like?

\----

Cullen woke alone in a strange bed and, for one brief, heart-pounding moment, he was completely disoriented. He shot up, and his eyes settled on their clothes crumpled in the floor where they'd left them before Dorian made good on his promise to avail themselves of this almost ridiculously large bed. _Ah,_ he thought with a smile as he settled back down into what had to be the softest sheets and blankets he'd ever felt against his skin. The night before had left his body a bit sore, but in the best way, and he just let himself doze happily a little longer until he was really ready to get up. Today was going to be fairly hectic, after all, so he wanted to laze a bit more while he could. In his mind, he ticked off all the things that would happen - family and friends trickling in all day, getting them all settled, shopping, prepping for the big meal tomorrow, some kind of quick dinner tonight. Writing vows.

 _Shit._ Cullen's brow furrowed even as he tried to relax. When was he supposed to find time to think, let alone write? He'd meant to mull it over on the plane and maybe write some after Dorian went to sleep, but well, all that nervous energy kept them chatting the whole way and once they got there… other things had kept him occupied. _Damn it._ He cursed in his head. Everything else had clicked into place. There'd be some last-minute scurrying, sure, but otherwise it would be perfect. Except Cullen still had no idea what he'd say or do for his part. He could see it now - that gazebo and all those flowers, friends and family all looking on with smiles and tears in their eyes, Dorian saying just the most perfect thing because of course he would, and then attention would shift to Cullen, and he'd bring the whole thing grinding to a halt.

_Maker, should I tell him?_

No. No, he still had time. He'd think of something. He'd been writing songs since he was a teenager, for Maker’s sake. He could tell the man he loved what he meant when the time came, right?

Thoroughly awake now and jittery with the anticipation of completely ruining their wedding day because his brain couldn't wrap around what he wanted to say, Cullen dragged himself from that oh, so comfortable bed and pulled on the jeans from yesterday. He'd shower and change later. Right now, he just wanted to go find Dorian and then find a cup of coffee. He assumed the two wouldn't be far apart.

It took a little while to find the kitchen - the house was larger than Cullen had imagined - but he finally succeeded and was rewarded with the sight of his fiance sitting at the counter, mug of coffee in hand. He took a breath as he crossed the distance over to him and wrapped his arms loosely around the man's shoulders. “Morning,” he mumbled, voice still sleepy, and kissed Dorian's cheek.”Sleep well?”

\----

A smile spread across Dorian’s face, melted some of the nerves he was feeling, when those arms wound around him. “You know I did,” he teased as he turned and kissed those soft lips. Cullen was so especially gorgeous when he was still sleepy. Dorian loved the sort of slow and sexy way he moved and spoke, and how his eyes were still dark. The fact that he got to wake up to that every day now helped ease him further, and he leaned back into that strong frame for a long moment.

“I wanted to be up when Felix gets in, just in case the taxi ends up getting lost or something,” Dorian answered before he sighed a bit. One hand lifted to rest over where Cullen’s hung around his chest and he squeezed, “I think, uh... I think the nerves have kicked in now,” he admitted softly, “and suddenly I’m even more glad we’re doing this small and intimate. I can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up and know we had to worry about getting to a Chantry and the whole nine yards. I’d be sick.”

\----

Nerves. Cullen understood that. The first time he'd done this, he remembered being a stumbling, fumbling mess for days ahead of the ceremony. He nuzzled his face in against the warm skin of Dorian's neck and breathed the man in for a moment, taking stock. Other than the worry over what his vows were going to be, he was oddly calm. Of course, that would change before the ceremony, but for now, he was at peace. Things would happen and it would be done, whether or not Cullen managed to pen the perfect words. Still, he'd been here before. Dorian hadn't, and it was a big thing, dedicating themselves to one another like this.

“It's normal,” Cullen began, “We'll get busy with everything leading up to it, and it'll get better, but…” He moved around to lean on the counter so he could look Dorian in the eyes and squeezed his shoulder, “You tell me if you need a break. I can manage the last-minute stuff if you need time to clear your head. Maker knows, I've got a few things I'm nervous about, too.”

Well, one thing. His time was running out to find the words.

\----

“Thank you,” he answered with a small smile before he leaned up for a kiss. After watching all those shows where one of the married couple seemed to be the one dealing with everything, and the other just seemed to show up as necessary, Dorian couldn’t imagine not having that support. This was only something small and he felt those nerves. Anything more than this and he might have torn his hair out.

Dorian took a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it out, “Once everyone gets here and it’s all happy I’m sure it’ll get better,” he pointed out as he abandoned his coffee mug so he could wind his arms around Cullen’s shoulders, “big empty houses tend to bring out melancholy in me, so I’ll be happy when there’s people here to fill it up.” The nerves were probably there to stay, but at least he knew that it didn’t matter if someone tripped or messed up a word here and there. The only people who’d be there wouldn’t care about that kind of thing anyway, and it wasn’t like he was nervous about _marrying_ Cullen. He was just... nervous in general.

“Now, did you want some coffee?” he asked, “or maybe just stay like this for a minute.”

\----

“Mmm... coffee can wait a bit,” Cullen murmured as he pulled Dorian closer and pressed a kiss to hair still mussed from sleep. “Sacrilege, I know, but given the choice between you and… anything else, my answer's you. Every time.” The calming warmth he always felt when their arms were around one another settled in, and Cullen hoped Dorian could feel even a little of it to soothe those jittery nerves. He couldn't help but let out a happy little sigh, though. The man in his arms, the man he loved, was and would _always_ be his choice over all else. Cullen was sure of that - 100% positive that nothing would make him break his promises or forget his vows again. There was no underlying _what if_ or _am I good enough?_ that had once plagued him, to disastrous ends. There was no doubt at all any more, which was why a slow smile spread across his face and his heart felt light.

“Pretty soon, this house might feel _too_ full,” Cullen mused as they held one another, “Bran and Rosie’ll be picking at each other before they get their suitcases through the door. Mia will be acting like everyone's mom. The kids will try to rope me into some game or other. Sera and Dagna will get here and, oh, I'm sure they'll be a big hit with everyone. In fact, maybe keep Bran and Sera apart, actually,” Cullen chuckled at the idea of Bran getting a real dressing down from Sera, and then shivered at what could happen should the two join forces. “This might be the last moment of peace you and I have for a while, love. Let's enjoy the calm before the storm while we can.”

\----

Dorian wound his legs around Cullen’s waist to mirror the hold he had on Cullen’s neck. “Call me that again,” he murmured against Cullen’s lips. That was something he’d never expected to like so much. Dorian hated pet names, hated anything diminutive, but he did like it when Cullen called him ‘love.’ It made his heart flutter, and he leaned in closer. “If we’re going to have a moment of peace I want to hear you call me that,” he went on. It was the Fereldan accent, he’d decided. It was so sincere and lovely and Dorian adored it.

“Felix will be here before too long, so... this might be all I can get until _after_ we’re married, since I doubt we’ll be up for much once everyone gets here.”

\----

Oh, this little turn of events was nice. Was there anything better than being wrapped up so completely in Dorian? Cullen doubted it, doubted it very much, and wished he'd crawled out of bed just a little sooner to prolong their time alone. Ah, well. They did have the rest of their lives together, after all. Still, there was probably time enough for.. something. At the very least, a little more kissing. Surely.

“As you wish… _love_ ,” Cullen murmured before pressing his lips to Dorian's. He let his hands fall to the hem of the shirt Dorian wore and then slip under it to slide up against warm skin and muscle, short nails dragging along lightly... just enough to be felt. That kiss deepened as he pressed in against Dorian more fully. No. No, there was nothing better than this. Nothing at all.

\----

It was still early. They had time. Felix’s plane didn’t even get in for another half hour and then probably another half hour to get there. An hour. Dorian groaned into Cullen’s mouth, pulled him closer, and pushed his tongue past the other man’s lips just so he could taste him. Dorian _wanted_ him so much. They’d had all night and enjoyed it, but something to cover up the nerves was what he needed more than anything.

“Cullen,” Dorian prompted against that scarred mouth once they finally stopped the kisses to breathe, “fuck me. I need it.”

It was a good way to fill the morning, after all. Felix was no stranger to seeing Dorian fresh from a tryst, and he’d probably get there just as they were pulling clothes back on and coming down like they’d only just rolled out of bed. That was fine. They still had hours until Cullen’s family started getting there, anyway.

“Please,” he begged softly, “please, please, please.”

\----

That pleading note to Dorian's voice, begging Cullen to take him, it did things to him on an instinctual level, and all he could think was _yes._ Calloused fingers dug into the muscles and skin of Dorian’s back as scarred lips parted to allow for that push and pull of tongues, warm and wet and perfect. _More_ , he thought. _More than this. More._ He wanted to feel the man pressed all along him, breathing and moving with him. But Dorian was still sitting in that chair and the angle was bad. Cullen pulled away from those kisses and nipped at the skin over the man's pulse before trailing kisses up to his ear.

“Hold onto me,” he growled. When he felt Dorian's arms tighten around his shoulders and his legs lock around his waist, he strengthened his own grip and lifted the other man from that stool and sat him on the counter. It was only a short distance, and his back would be complaining later… but right now, he couldn't care less. He had that press he was looking for earlier, and his lips sought out Dorian's again to renew the kisses that had been interrupted. Maker, but Dorian felt so _good_ , tasted so _good._ It was all too easy to lose himself in this.

\----

Dorian had been right. About an hour was all they had, but it was all they needed. They were no strangers to fooling around outside the bedroom, after all, and by the time Dorian had plucked his shirt from where Cullen had thrown it across the kitchen, they heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. He chuckled to himself and pulled the shirt on before he turned to cup Cullen’s face and kiss him. They did look a bit of a mess, flushed and hair askew, but... Maker, they were getting _married_. They were allowed.

“Go get cleaned up,” Dorian practically giggled against Cullen’s mouth, “I’ll distract them for a bit, hm?”

He landed a gentle pat against Cullen’s arse as he shooed the other man back to the bedroom, and quickly ran a hand through his hair so it didn’t _quite_ look like they’d just been... well. By the time a knock came to the door, Dorian scampered up to the foyer and pulled it open. On the other side was Felix, looking healthy and happy and excited, and Allora standing beside him wearing a smile. Dorian hadn’t met her before, but she was perfectly lovely. She made Felix happy, too, so he’d been delighted for him to bring her.

“ _Really_ , Dorian?” Felix deadpanned as he leaned in for a hug and a kiss to the cheek, “you’re going to have literally _the rest of your life_ , and you can’t manage a morning?”

“You didn’t walk in on it,” he teased back as he kissed Allora on the cheek and waved them in, “I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” Felix teased as they brought their bags in and settled in the little sitting room, “absolutely hopeless.”

Dorian grinned, “Make yourselves at home. I’ll go, ah…”

“Make yourself decent?” Felix supplied with a grin, “please, for all our sakes.”

* * *

 

 


	11. It's a Nice Day for A... [3 of 3]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I now present, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Pavus-Rutherford."

Cullen made his way back up to their room, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary and sporting a healthy flush as he did. In the room, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to just take a quick shower. Dorian did tell him to get cleaned up, after all, so he dug his toiletry bag out and hopped in the shower. As he stood under the warm jets of water, he tried to focus on what the day would bring, but only managed to think about what had already happened. _Maker, don't let the lady who owns this house ever find out what we did in her kitchen._ If he could have blushed deeper, he would have as he made a mental note to hunt down cleaning supplies before any other guests arrived.

Still, it had been a ton of fun and well worth it.

By the time he'd finished washing and toweled off, Dorian was just walking in the room. “That's Felix, right?” Cullen asked as he started pulling on clothes. “Think he, ah, _knows_?”

\----

“Oh, definitely,” Dorian laughed as he pulled his shirt off over his head so he could grab a shower himself, “he’s seen me come home in the mornings before.” He turned to press a kiss against Cullen’s shoulder for that, “it’s fine. I think we’re entitled.”

By the time they both got cleaned up and headed back downstairs, it seemed as though Felix and Allora had gotten themselves settled. Dorian slipped his hand into Cullen’s as they dropped down into the sitting area to chat. As it was, Cullen’s family were due in another hour or so. It was nice to have some downtime to just... relax. Talk. Enjoy before things got busy.

 “So,” Felix prompted, “I got my official ‘You’re A Minister Now!’ certificate.”

Dorian chuckled, “I’m so proud.”

Felix turned to Cullen then, “Dorian said you wanted to do a quick practice maybe? Before everyone gets here?”

\----

“Oh, nothing so elaborate as a full rehearsal,” Cullen answered, waving his hands in jerky little motions. He was still working up the nerve to look them in the face, at least without renewing the blush that he was pretty sure was permanent at this point - Felix knowing what had just… transpired was bad enough, but he'd only just met Allora. Again, though, well worth the momentary discomfort and odd bashfulness that had descended upon him. Cullen cleared his throat and his hands fell, one curling back around Dorian's and squeezing lightly. “Just, ah… just so we know how it's gonna go and when to speak and all that. The order of things, you know. So there isn't any awkward silence or anything. Which I'm good at creating, by the way.” He finished with a nervous little titter, and winced at how decidedly unmanly it sounded coming from his lips.

Ah. There were those nerves he'd thought strangely absent earlier, come to life now that they were talking about the ceremony itself with the actual officiator. It seemed he wasn't immune, after all - second time around or not. It made sense. The moment was just as big now as it had been then, the promise they'd be making to one another just as real.

\----

Felix and Dorian shared a bit of a look and Felix laughed a bit, “Um, okay, so, I don’t know if you want to start with a ‘dearly beloved’ or whatever. That sounds a little... you know, like you’re talking to a huge Chantry of people. I looked over some different versions of things and I’ve got a few bookmarked that start off with ‘welcome friends and family’ and that kind of thing, then the ‘these two have decided to join their lives together in front of all of us and in the they eyes of the Maker blah blah blah,’ you two say whatever vows you’ve got, then we’ll do the ‘I do’s and... kiss and done?”

Dorian turned to look up at Cullen, “is that alright with you?” he asked, “or... was there something else you wanted to know? I can go first with the vows, if you want. Or you can. I’m not fussed over who says what first, so long as it gets said.”

\----

_Oh, Maker, they've already started in with the significant looks. Here we go._ Cullen loved Dorian, clearly, and liked Felix quit a bit, but the two of them spoke a different language sometimes… and not one that always used words. _Being best friends nearly all your life will do that_ , Cullen supposed. But sometimes, he really, _really_ wished he knew what those little looks meant. Right now was one of those times.

He sighed and contented himself with not knowing. For now, he had bigger things to worry about… what his vows were going to be chiefest amongst them.

_If I go first, then… I won't have to follow what will definitely be the… more eloquent of the two. Maker, I'll be the opening act at my own wedding. Hilarious. But if I go last, then maybe something Dorian says will, shit, I don't know… inspire me? Fuck. They're looking at me. Why couldn't I plan this better?_

“No, that's... that's good,” Cullen said slowly, still trying to decide which would be least painful. He still had all day for a stroke of brilliance to hit him… but maybe… just in case it didn't… “Maybe you go first? Like you said, it doesn't matter, so long as they're said… but one of us needs to be first…”

\----

“I’m fine with that,” Dorian agreed with a nod before he leaned up to kiss Cullen’s cheek. Seeing those nerves actually helped his own, in a weird way. It was nice to know Cullen wasn’t completely calm about everything as well. They’d done their level best to make this as easy and carefree as possible, but at the end of the day it was still a huge moment for them both.

Felix grinned, “Are you going to sing, Cullen?” he asked, “since I haven’t gotten to hear you yet? Oh! Or maybe a bit of a show tonight for everyone? Dorian showed me a clip from one of your shows and I’d love to get to hear you.”

“Me too,” Allora agreed with a nod and a smile, “we never get to hang out with rock stars up at school. It would probably do our street cred some good.”

\----

Amber eyes went wide with sudden realization. “Maker… I didn't even bring my guitar. I got caught up in packing and making sure I had everything and I just… didn't even think about it.” He couldn't remember the last time he went somewhere without it - it had always been like an extension of himself, from the moment Ella gave it to him. _But maybe_ , he thought as he looked over at his fiance, the man who would be his husband tomorrow, _maybe it's time to let even that go._

Not that Ella wouldn't always be important to him, but she was part of his old life. He'd always love her, but in this new life, his heart was Dorian's. Completely. Scarred lips curled into a soft smile as he felt the last vestiges of old Cullen finally, finally let go. All because he forgot his guitar and hadn't given it a second thought.

“I'd have been happy to play, of course… assuming that's what everyone wanted, but…” he shrugged and spread his hands. _What are you gonna do?_

\----

Dorian leaned over and nuzzled his face in against Cullen’s shoulder. “We’ll have to get by with a radio, then,” he teased and curled in closer. It was nice to have a plan now, though. They knew what they were doing, and it helped ease Dorian a little more. No one would judge them if they stumbled over words, he knew that, but Dorian was glad they knew the whats and whens too. Now he just needed to focus on not crying or something else.

While they sat and chatted with Felix and Allora, Cullen’s family started arriving. Lizzie and Stanton arrived first, of course, then Mia and Will and the kids (who saw the pool and immediately wanted in, prompting a change of venue to the back patio), and then Bran and Mandy and Rosalie. Everyone got mostly settled around the pool with a few drinks, and Dorian smiled as he leaned back against Cullen’s chest in one of the lounge chairs. They’d had to start thinking about doing that shopping soon.

“Was the trip up alright?” Dorian asked toward Mia and Lizzie, “no problems?" 

\----

“Oh, perfectly pleasant, dear,” Lizzie laughed, “or would have been if _someone_ hadn't been gripping my knee in a tizzy the whole time.” She grinned and shot a pointed look over at her husband. For his part, Stanton just harrumphed and mumbled something about _if the Maker had wanted us to fly_ under his breath.

“That’s ok, Dad,” Cullen chuckled as his hands idly squeezed and massaged Dorian’s shoulders, “Next time, we’ll let you drive yourself.” His heart was light at the sight of his family all together and enjoying themselves, the nerves from earlier _almost_ forgotten in the greetings and easy banter and the sounds of the kids splashing in the pool. He sighed, content, and relaxed back into his chair, just enjoying the simple pleasure of a beautiful day and being surrounded by so many people he loved.

“This place is _amazing_ ,” Mia interjected before their father was subject to too much more teasing, “you said this belongs to one of your friends? Nice friend.”

\----

“More like a work... client and friend,” Dorian answered with a smile, “she’s been very good to me since I started working with her, so I can’t complain.” He let out a soft sound as Cullen’s fingers found a knot in his shoulder and he smiled back over at him as he rested a hand on the other man’s leg. “It seemed like a waste to just have this whole place to ourselves.”

“Too much like home?” Felix teased where he was sitting at the edge of the pool with his legs in the water. He was enjoying splashing the kids every so often, much to their squeals of enjoyment.

Dorian smiled, “Big empty houses aren’t really on my list of things I like any more.”

“Good thing we have you covered then, eh?” Bran asked, “plenty of us to go around.”

“Speaking of,” Dorian mused, and looked back over at Cullen, “we’ll need supplies.”

\----

“Oh, only if we want to eat this weekend,” Cullen returned easily. “So, Mia…”

“What?” she asked warily.

“Don't you want to go…” Cullen started, eyes wide and pressing his hands together under his chin.

“Don't you dare. I'm on _vacation_ ,” she interrupted.

“... help with the shopping? _Please_? You know we'd be hopeless without you,” he finished sweetly with a wink.

“You're not wrong there,” she answered curtly, arms crossed. Finally, though, she sighed and relented, “Fine. But when we get back, I'm planting myself in one of those chairs with a book and _not moving._ For the whole weekend, you hear me?”

In the end, they recruited Bran to come along, too, and they all piled up in the car Vivienne had said they could use while they were there. A few hours and one close call with a stacked display of drinks later - _honestly, Bran, how old are you?_ \- and the group came back with enough food and beverage to feed a small army. Which, Cullen supposed, they kind of were.

They spent the rest of the day either relaxing by the pool or chatting and catching up inside the kitchen where Cullen was prepping the food for the big dinner planned for the next day. Felix and Allora integrated into the Rutherford clan with ease, and Cullen couldn’t help but smile at the way Rosie barely left them alone all day. That big house was full now - with people, yes, but also laughter and love... and that was just about perfect, as far as Cullen was concerned.

After dinner, the kids excitedly dragged Cullen into a room he hadn’t explored yet and, to his delight, practically shoved him into the piano that sat in the middle of the large room. So, the largest portion of the evening was spent with wine and song as everyone tossed out songs for Cullen to play - or try to. Piano had never been his forte, after all, but he managed. Until the requests grew increasingly silly, anyway, and he gave it up to go curl up with Dorian where he sat with a glass of wine.

They talked late into the night, probably too late, but the giddy energy of good times and being together all under one roof carried them through until, in ones and twos, they all said their goodnights and filed off to their rooms.

Finally alone and curled up in that overlarge bed, Cullen sighed happily. He was heavy and drowsy with wine and the long day that stretched out behind him. Already half asleep as soon as his body was between the sheets, he laid his head on Dorian’s chest and pressed light little kisses over his heart. “Tomorrow,” he breathed and closed his eyes, a little smile playing on his face.

_Tomorrow._

\----

Tomorrow indeed. No, not tomorrow.

_Today_.

Dorian rose early, before the sun was even up all the way. They’d gone to bed not long ago, Dorian could feel it in his bones when he finally slipped out of bed and wrapped the blankets more around Cullen. His nerves wouldn’t let him sleep any longer than what little he’d gotten with Cullen wrapped around him. He was so aware of the other man, even when they slept, and Dorian did love it. He’d be aware of Cullen for the rest of his life. Always.

So he got up, made coffee, and sat out on the back porch to watch the sun come up. Today was the day. This afternoon. The others who intended to come would get there around noon, and then they would get married. Maker, they’d _get married_. Just like that. Like it was so easy. In a way, it was. After everything else, this was arguably one of the easiest parts.

While he waited for everyone else to get up, Dorian contemplated... everything. He thought about his vows, looked down at the ring Cullen had given him months ago, and just smiled. Maker, but he did love that man. Dorian had never felt that squeeze in his chest like he did for Cullen. It was so warm, so close and comforting like a scarf tied around him in the best way. Everything about him: his smile, his laugh, those amber eyes when they looked at Dorian like he was the most important thing in the whole world, and those strong hands that wrapped around his both in happiness and in bad times. Dorian loved every part of him.

_Once upon a time…_

Finally, after Dorian had already been up long enough to drink an entire carafe of coffee, people started to wake, and Lizzie got herself set up in the kitchen to make them all one of the biggest breakfasts Dorian had ever seen. It was more kisses and hugs all around, words of happiness and thanks for the nice rooms and how much fun the night before was, and after they’d eaten and relaxed a bit everyone seemed to migrate back outside under the clear sky so the kids could jump in the pool again.

Outside, Dorian smiled from his own perch at the edge of the pool while he watched Cullen in it with Mia’s two. It did warm his heart to see him like that, pale skin glistening in the sunlight and water as he picked Seth up on one shoulder. He was so good with them, and with his whole family, and it made Dorian’s heart ache.

“So what’s the plan for the afternoon?” Bran asked from where he was stretched out under some shade on the porch, “we could go into town for a bit, maybe?”

“Actually, some friends of mine are coming over in a couple of hours,” Dorian answered, then turned to look at Cullen, “isn’t that right?”

“Well, we could go,” Bran pointed out, “unless we’re making this a proper backyard party. I wouldn’t complain about that.”

Both of Dorian’s eyebrows rose for that and he turned back to look at Cullen again before a smile started to spread across his features, “I don’t think a party would be out of the question,” he commented, “don’t you think, amatus?” Dorian had figured that Cullen would want to be the one to spring the surprise, after all.

\----

Cullen blinked from where he stood, waist deep in water with a laughing 6-year-old perched on his shoulders. He cocked his head just slightly to the side in a silent question - _Now?_ \- and Dorian’s smile said _Yes, now_.

_Here we go…_

“Oh, definitely,” he grinned back and pulled Seth down from his shoulders to toss him over at his sister with a splash and a squeal of delight. Cullen waded over to where Dorian was sitting and leaned against the edge of the pool, trying to appear laid back and nonchalant about the whole thing. For a wonder, he didn’t do an entirely awful job of it, though he couldn’t help the little shake to his hands. “I think a party would be very appropriate… after.”

He was rewarded with a suspicious look from Mia. “What are you two up to?” She didn’t miss a thing.

The two men traded conspiratorial smirks that faded into soft smiles as Cullen reached for Dorian’s hand.

“So, today’s going to go a little like this,” Cullen began, “A little more playing around out here next to the pool, maybe some light snacks to tide us over, everyone gets showered and dressed, we’ll go hang out next to that gazebo over there for a while, maybe get married, have a barbecue, probably more hanging out around the pool, definitely drinks, some music. You know, your average day on a relaxing vacation.”

\----

Dorian had to fight to not laugh at that, and he reached out a hand to ruffle Cullen’s wet hair like it was the most normal thing in the world. Grey eyes lifted to gauge reaction as he leaned closer to Cullen. He watched Mia nod, then smirked as he actually saw realization strike.

“Cullen?” Stanton asked from where he was sitting beside Lizzie in the shade. One of his hands rested on her arm, “care to... run that by us again?”

\----

“We, ah, may have held a few details back when we asked you all to come,” Cullen explained, the hand not holding Dorian’s raised to rub the back of his neck absently. He took a breath, strengthened the grip on that hand he was holding, and flashed a smile that was completely open and entirely happy. “We’re getting married... today,” he went on, and those words spoken out loud made his chest flutter and expand, “With all of you here, though there are a few guests still on their way. We just… we wanted it to be something nice and only with the people who mean the most. And actually fun. That was important, too.”

There was a beat of silence before Cullen turned to Dorian and added, “So… that makes this our wedding day,” in a soft voice, “ _Maker_."

\----

“Easy,” Dorian chuckled as he leaned down to kiss Cullen’s wet hair, “you keep saying things like that and I’m going to faint.”

There were about five seconds of peace and quiet after that where it seemed like everyone was processing, and then another five seconds as the entire Rutherford clan descended and both Dorian and Cullen as they were practically hauled up and to their feet for more hugs and kisses than Dorian could remember ever having in his life. It was more that even when they’d announced the engagement. It was like a storm of tears and happy laughing and questions, and not for the first time Dorian was glad they’d decided on the surprise.

Everyone seemed to be almost beside themselves about it after that. There was a whirlwind of showers and getting dressed and Sera and Dagna, Leliana and Josephine and Yvette (much to Rosalie’s delight) getting there. More hugs, more happy tears and excited words. It was a rush Dorian hadn’t expected, and honestly it felt like his head was spinning by the time everyone had gotten there and they were mostly just sitting around talking now.

Felix came up behind him and rested a hand on Dorian’s shoulder before he smiled, “Um... ready?” he asked as he held up a small notebook, “I’ve got what I need.”

Dorian looked over at Cullen and pursed his lips together for a moment, “I... are you? Ready, I mean?” he asked and was actually surprised at the shaking in his voice, “to do this?”

\----

That little shake in Dorian's voice matched the way Cullen's insides were practically buzzing. Nerves, joy, love… all of that had him lightheaded and giddy, but the question - _are you ready? -_ centered him and brought focus to an almost overwhelmed mind. He studied Dorian for a moment with smiling eyes and a crooked little grin.

_Am I ready?_

Maker, it wasn't even a question. He tilted his head up and pressed a soft kiss to Dorian's forehead before he stood and held out his hand. “ _More_ than,” he breathed and then chuckled, “Let's get married, shall we?”

They walked then - Felix leading, Cullen and Dorian following, and the rest behind - over to the little gazebo that had been artfully decorated with flowers, lovely white things with pops of color here and there. As they moved, Cullen thought, too late, that perhaps music would have been good here. Wasn't there usually some sort of processional? But no, that was far too traditional, and he rather liked hearing the excited chattering and joyous laughter that followed them. It warmed his heart, and he thought it fitting. Hopefully a sign that, from here on out, wherever he and Dorian went, laughter and love would follow. No, fanfares and formal arrangements weren't needed here. They had no place. That laughter was all the music he needed today.

He tried to feel everything. He took it all in, from the soft grass that tickled his bare feet to how perfect Dorian looked in simple linen pants and a crisp white shirt that set off his burnished complexion to just how wonderfully _glorious_ the blue sky overhead was. He'd hold on to these things for all time; they were all recorded in the annals of his mind… the first of many memories they'd make together as _husbands._

They stopped in front of that gazebo, and Cullen turned to face Dorian as everyone else settled in on the blankets and ottomans that had been set up earlier.

“Now,” he began as he squeezed the hand he still held, “Are _you_ ready?”

\----

“Do you need to ask?” Dorian replied with a small smile.

Maker, but to see Cullen standing up there in white and looking as angelic and handsome as Dorian had ever seen him. It made his chest ache. His heart was so full that it felt like it was going to burst. It was a good feeling: the nerves and happiness and shaking and everything else. It should have scared him more, but it didn’t. It absolutely didn’t.

A quick glance to Felix with a smile had the other man opening the little notebook he had with him. Dorian squeezed Cullen’s hands, held them tightly, and looked up into those beautiful amber eyes as Felix started to speak: “Today Cullen and Dorian have made the decision to spring the surprise of their union on us all,” he began, and smiled a little, “except for me. I had to get an online certificate. But they’ve asked us all to be here for them while they commit themselves to each other, and I don’t think there’s any of us here that takes that lightly. All of us here love them both, want them to be happy, and understand that this is a very serious undertaking. Of anyone I know, though, I’d say that Dorian and Cullen understand that the best. They’ve loved each other through a lot of things, and if anyone in the whole of Thedas deserves to be happy... it’s them.”

Dorian smiled for that and turned his gaze down to the grass. He was so aware of how it felt under his bare feet and how warm the air around them was. Every single sense was committing this moment to memory. He didn’t ever want to forget it.

“They’ve told me they have vows,” Felix prompted as he closed the notebook with his thumb marking a page, “so I’ll turn this over to them for the moment.”

_Maker help me._

Dorian took a few shaking breaths before he turned to look out at the small gathering of people. He watched as Lizzie and Stanton smiled serenely (and a bit tearfully) and he watched as Mia had to fight a bit with Seth to get him to settle. He watched as Sera gave him a thumbs up from the back with a grin and how Bran and Rosalie were watching happily. Everyone there wanted them to have this moment, and he wanted so badly for it to be perfect. He wanted this to be one of those moments where he said all the right things so Cullen knew how much Dorian loved him and so his family would see that he was trying _so hard_ to be the person that was right for their brother and son.

He cleared his throat then and squeezed Cullen’s hand, “Um... alright,” Dorian began, “I’ll start, hm?” Another deep breath and he turned to look at Cullen, _just_ at Cullen, before he smiled. This bit was for him, and when he’d planned this out he knew that Cullen would be the one to _understand_ it and not just _appreciate_ it. “Just breathe,” Dorian told himself softly before he licked his lips and looked back up at Cullen.

“Once upon a time, there was a very strong and handsome warrior,” Dorian began, “he was a good man: kind, loving, willing to help those around him. Everyone, including him, believed that his life was perfect. He had someone who loved him by his side, a happy home life, and a family that he was close to. But... one day he realized that it couldn’t last and he had to leave his home so that he could find the part of himself that made it all seem worth it. He had to answer the question ‘can I be better?’ So he left and promised that he’d come home with the answer, even if the answer wasn’t what he wanted.”

Dorian squeezed Cullen’s hand again then, “His lover promised to wait. They... gave their love a token, something to remind their man that even in the worst of times that someone was waiting and loving him, and stayed behind to wait. They endured for a long time: fear, hurt, sadness. But they knew that when their love finally came home that he would have the answers that he needed, and even if the answer wasn’t good, or if the journey knocked them down, that they would stay by him and love him no matter what.”

He’d read that story a hundred times. Dorian had hardly needed a reread to make sure he said it right.

“Their love returned, bruised and haunted and enlightened, guided by the love in the token and the knowledge that what he’d seen was what he’d needed. He had to go on a long journey, was tested within an inch of his life until he prayed for death, but never let it take him. Every hardship he went through served to give him the strength to handle any and everything. When he returned, all the things that had seemed so difficult were done without any problem, and everyone could start moving forward instead of staying in the same place. The warrior’s lover was happy, glad to see the man they loved so much doing such wonderful things, and when they asked if it was the desire to move forward that helped them get home the warrior told them that it was that and the support he had.”

Dorian brushed his finger over the ring on Cullen’s thumb and smiled up at him, “The warrior said he felt it every time his lover took a moment to build him up and be strong for him and it gave him hope. It was how he made it through and made it back,” he finished and took another breath before he turned to look back out at the others for a moment.

“I love you, Cullen Rutherford,” Dorian went on before he looked back up into that handsome face, “and I’ll stand by you through whatever hardships or journeys you have to go on, and I’ll be there to support you no matter what. From the minute I saw you the very first time, I knew you were different and I knew that I felt different about you than I had to anyone else in the world. You were more real, more important, than anyone else I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t change anything we’ve been through, not a moment of it, because it’s gotten us to this point. With you, I’ve found my own strength, and hopefully helped to give you some of it when you needed it.”

This wasn’t quite everything he’d wanted to say, but there was so _so_ much. They’d be there all day if he said everything he wanted to say.

“There’s no one else I’d rather go on a journey with or for or wait for any of it. You’re the man I want for the rest of my life, and the only person I would ever trust to be by my side forever. And... I promise to love you to the best of my abilities, and to always go to you with worries or fears, and I promise to trust you and to be the best person I can be both for myself and for you. Because you deserve someone who wants us both to be the best we can both for each other and ourselves. And because you deserve someone who loves you so completely...  _I love you_ so completely. _”_

\----

Their story. It was their story. Cullen knew it well. How could he not? It was the one Dorian had told him when he gave him the silver band he wore around his thumb - when Dorian had given Cullen his _token_. And hadn’t it been that very same plain ring of silver that had kept Cullen from going over the edge so many times? On nights when things seemed darkest, when, like the hero in the tale Dorian was spinning, he’d almost wished for death, that ring had given him focus when his mind would threaten to spin out of control. He’d lay in bed and hold his hand up, letting the moonlight shine off its smooth surface - sometimes spinning it around his thumb, sometimes just looking at it - but always thinking _I have a reason to go back. I have a reason to be better. I have a reason to hope._ That was the strength Dorian had given him that awful day when things were at their lowest. Dorian had given him _hope_ where there was none before… and that had made all the difference.

As he listened, as those words washed over him, his mind cast back to those early days when everything seemed lost. There was still sadness there, but there was happiness, too. There was a fierce joy in knowing that, while the _relationship_ they’d had didn’t survive the bad times, their _love_ did. Their love made it possible to face the hurt together, mend the broken bones, and carry on into something new. Into this.

And then Dorian said the words that Cullen knew to be his truth, too: _I wouldn’t change anything we’ve been through, not a moment of it, because it’s gotten us to this point._ Tears that he’d held back throughout the story fell openly, shining as they fell over golden lashes. His heart felt like it would burst just knowing that Dorian felt the same. The two of them, they’d never be here today if it weren’t for the path they’d taken, even if that path had been long and hard and dark and lonely for a while.

As Dorian finished, Cullen was shaking with the effort it took not to pull the man into his arms and dissolve into tears and murmured ‘I love you’s'. So much. It meant so much that Dorian chose now to symbolically recount their history together, to acknowledge, through the tale, that terrible things happened, and then renew that promise to keep trusting, keep trying, and never lose sight of just how much they loved each other.

“Thank you,” Cullen breathed, smiling through the tears that fell as he reached for Dorian’s other hand to hold them both tightly. “That was so… beautiful.”

And then the moment was there. It was Cullen's turn to say the things he wanted to say to Dorian in front of the Maker, family, friends, and each other. He was silent a moment, eyes closed, as he worked to center himself and let that sea of emotion calm a bit so he could trust himself to speak.

But he still didn't know what to say. Even more so now. What could he possibly say that would sum up everything they were, had been… will be? There was so much there - so much history, so many feelings wrapped up in the good and the bad that he didn't know where to begin. Or even if there was a beginning. Nothing had organized itself into coherent statements. No amount of pithy sentiment could cover it. How could he neatly describe or quantify the true and sometimes terrifying strength of his love for the man in front of him?

Nothing for it but to start.

Amber eyes closed and Cullen took a deep, hitching breath as he squeezed Dorian's hands to focus, drawing strength from that connection.

“I've had time enough to write a book about us. About the ways I love you, the ways I will always love you, and how much good _your_ love does _me_ \- how much strength it’s given me,” he began, smiling softly with bright, wet eyes, “but I stumble over the words every time I tried to get it down on paper. The words refused to come. How can I tell you what you mean to me? How much it means that you found me broken but stayed with me as it all crashed? How thankful I am that you supported me as it slowly came back together? How important that second chance and starting over really was?” His voice had been shaking, but he'd managed. Here, though, he was barely able to choke out that last question, and he took a moment to let that crashing wave of emotion pass.

“Are there words big enough to even attempt it? After weeks of trying, I haven’t been able to find them. The only thing that even comes close is this…” Slowly, hesitantly, he raised Dorian's hand and pressed it to his racing heart. “This - my heart - it speaks for itself. Only it knows the words, and it says them each and every time it beats. ‘Yours, for all time,’ it says. And it always will - in good and bad times - that is my promise to you. My _vow._ There is no burden you will ever have to bear without support. There’s no test or trial I won’t help with. There’s no path I won’t walk with you. You will never be alone, so long as this heart beats in my chest.”

“You… and your heart… are what mine has chosen. It… I wouldn't be whole without you. I wouldn’t even be the man I am right now without you. So, here I am, telling you in front of all those who love us…” He raised Dorian's hand to trembling lips and brushed a kiss against bronze knuckles before letting their hands, still clasped, return to where they'd been before Cullen started speaking. “I love you, Dorian Pavus, more than I could ever say. You’re my support, the one I go to in times of trouble, my best friend, and now… I'm proud to call you my husband. _Proud_.” 

\----

Everyone seemed to be sniffling and wiping their eyes now, so Dorian didn’t feel so out of place as he tried to blink back the ones that had gathered in his eyes. He squeezed Cullen’s hands, kept his gaze on those amber eyes as the other man spoke and let his entire self commit these moments to perfect memory. These were the things he wanted to carry with him forever. There was nothing more important than this.

From behind them, Felix cleared his throat and wiped at his face a bit before he opened the notebook again, “They’ve made promises to each other, said all the things they needed to say, and now... unless someone has an objection, it’s time for them to bind themselves to one another for now and forever. Is there anyone who might object?”

Soft laughter then, and Dorian first looked up at Cullen with a weepy smile before he looked out at the rest of them. For just a second, it looked like Bran might try to say something joking, but both Mandy and Rosalie grabbed his rising hand to keep it still with hissed “don’t you bloody dare!”s from them both followed by laughter.

 Felix took another breath then and turned to look at Dorian, “Okay,” he prompted, “repeat after me.”

So Dorian did: “I, Dorian Pavus, accept you, Cullen Rutherford, as my partner in all things. I will stand by you for good or ill, be your support in times of trouble, and lean on you when I fear I’m falling. I promise to love you as best I can, promise to help make us both the best versions of ourselves, and promise to share my life with you with laughter and love and respect. May our lives be forever entwined.”

Once he’d said the words, Dorian lifted Cullen’s hand that his ring was on so he could kiss it. They hadn’t bought another set for this, not in such short notice, but he was happy to do this instead.  With a quick grin to Felix he also tossed in a quick, “And I promise to be the best husband I can be,” before he straightened and squeezed Cullen’s hand.

Felix turned to look at Cullen, “Repeat after me?”

\----

Amber eyes drank in every detail of Dorian's face as he spoke those words, and the world collapsed down into just this moment and only the two of them.

“I, Cullen Rutherford, accept you, Dorian Pavus, as my partner in all things. I will stand by you for good or ill, be your support in times of trouble, and lean on you when I fear I’m falling. I promise to love you as best I can, promise to help make us both the best versions of ourselves, and promise to share my life with you with laughter and love and respect. May our lives be forever entwined.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locked onto Dorian's as Cullen raised Dorian's left hand to kiss the ring he'd given him months back when they'd both decided that this, all of this, was what they both wanted. A life together. Forever.

“Forever,” he whispered against that ringed hand before letting it fall again.

\----

Felix took another breath then and turned to look at Dorian, “Do you, Dorian, take Cullen to be your husband?”

Without hesitation, Dorian grinned and squeezed Cullen’s hand, “ _Maker,_ yes.”

Then Felix turned to Cullen, “And do you, Cullen, take Dorian to be your husband?”

\----

Cullen beamed down at Dorian and chuckled softly at his answer. _Almost there_. And then the question was directed back at him, and he did take a moment. A moment to breathe and feel the day. It really was perfect, better than he could have imagined. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, they were surrounded by people who they loved and who loved them. He’d remember this moment, so he savored it as he squeezed Dorian’s hand right back and breathed, “I do. I really do.”

\----

“Then, by the power invested in me by the powers of the internet and a possibly kind of shady e-ministry, I hereby pronounce you husbands,” Felix announced and gestured toward them, “now have your first married kiss.”

Dorian grinned for that. That was the type of humor and irreverence that he’d wanted for this. This certainly beat the pants off any stuffy Chantry wedding by far. So he pulled Cullen into him with both hands and wrapped one arm around his waist and the other cupped against an actually clean-shaven cheek. “I love you,” he breathed against Cullen’s lips and then leaned in for a sound and thorough kiss.

\----

That kiss was another thing to add to the list of perfect things this day brought, and Cullen just let go and pressed back into it. The first. Their first kiss as husbands. That thought set his heart to pounding and he felt his chest expand with warmth as he just tried to feel everything. Soft lips, strong arms, gentle hands. It was all just sensation and love and a deep joy that took his breath away. He didn't want it to end.

“Hope you're not paying that guy by the hour…” a voice from the audience called out to a few snorts and giggles. Bran. Of course, Bran. Cullen pulled away and laughed at the sound of Mandy and Rosie both smacking his brother over the head. As he deserved. Even that was perfect.

Cullen raised a hand then and stroked Dorian's cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen with his thumb. “I love you, too. _Husband_.”

\----

For a long moment the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just he and Cullen floating in space with nothing else to distract them from each other. Dorian loved it. His heart pounded in his chest, now from happiness and excitement rather than nerves, and that kiss and Cullen’s gentle words were the only things that mattered. They were married now. _Married_. Dorian had never thought he’d ever be married. That had always seemed so out of reach for him, like maybe he didn’t deserve it, but now they had it. Clearly he’d done something somewhere to be worthy of this.

Behind them, Felix cleared his throat a bit, and Dorian finally looked away from Cullen’s handsome face to catch his brother’s expression. Despite the slightly sarcastic humor, Felix looked proud. Dorian had never known him to look like that at him before. “Now that you’ve come up for air,” he teased before he opened his arms and gestured to Dorian and Cullen, “I now present, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Pavus-Rutherford.”

And that... Maker, that was what broke the dam. Dorian had managed to keep himself in check through most of this with only some tears and a few sniffles, but that? To hear it out loud like it was _really_ happening? Like they’d actually _made it_. He couldn’t quite stop the slightly choked sound and how he curled into Cullen so he could press his face in against the other man’s neck.

_Dorian Pavus-Rutherford._

Yeah. That was perfect.

\----

_Cullen Stanton Pavus-Rutherford._

That’s who he was now. Well, to be honest, that’s who he’d been for a while; his name matched his heart now, was all. He smiled broadly, chest filled with a mixture of pride and love and a sense of completion as Dorian pressed in close to nuzzle in under his jaw. Cullen could feel him shake, could sense the emotion rolling off of him, and felt his body respond in kind. A lump formed in his throat as he wrapped his arms around his husband - _his husband_ \- as tightly as he dared to keep that warmth close. Blinking back fresh tears, he tilted his chin down to place gentle kisses against that soft fuzz of hair at Dorian’s temple before pressing his cheek to Dorian’s and just… breathing. Just being.

Slowly, dimly, he became aware of the hoots and clapping that came from their small group of family and friends on the lawn. They parted with content smiles, though their hands remained entwined, and met with hugs and tears and kisses in numbers that were astounding. Grateful. Cullen was so, so grateful for each and every one. There was a time, not too long ago in the grand scheme of things, when he’d thought himself undeserving of love. Love was a dream of freedom in a prison of his own making. But he looked around, and that’s all he saw on the faces of everyone crowded around them. He would never take it for granted. He would never take Dorian for granted. Every moment of this was precious. Every moment.

Eventually, they all made their way back to the house in a happy little huddle, and preparations for the evening’s celebration were underway. Clothes were changed, kids resumed their splashing, and for all intents and purposes, everything was the same as it had been an hour ago. Except it wasn’t. As Cullen went about prepping the steaks and burgers for the grill, his eye would catch Dorian’s every now and then as he worked on getting all the vegetables chopped, and they’d both grin and laugh for no other reason except happiness.

The evening wore on, filled with good food and better friends. It was everything they’d hoped it would be and more - complete with a heated, passionate argument from all the Rutherford men as they huddled around the grill and bickered about how to properly cook a steak. Cullen caught Dorian smirking at them, one eyebrow cocked, from where he sat by Felix and Allora, and Cullen may have stuck his tongue out at the man before resuming his argument. It was Dorian’s word against his in that regard.

They laughed and drank and told stories until well after the sun had gone down. It did Cullen’s heart good to watch his family coming together and be present as new friendships formed. It seemed Rosie and Yvette were quite fond of Felix and Allora, and Sera had been picking on Bran ruthlessly since he opened his mouth during the ceremony. Cullen just relaxed into one of the lounge chairs with Dorian’s back pressed to his chest and took it all in, kissing his husband’s cheek whenever the wave of _we’re married!_ would wash over him… which it did. And often.

Finally, though, the day was ending, as all things must. They said goodbye with plenty more hugs and kisses to those who weren’t staying through the night - Sera, Dagna, Leliana, Josie and Yvette. And then everyone who was sleeping there slowly trickled back up to their rooms to turn in until finally, the newlyweds followed suit. They had… matters to attend to now that they had some time to themselves.

The pool was Dorian’s idea. Of course it was Dorian’s idea to go back down well after midnight when, by all rights, they should have been snuggling and drifting off into post-coital slumber. _To cool off,_ he’d said with a smug look of satisfaction, and when Cullen hadn’t budged, he broke out the big eyes and the _Please?_ in the tone he knew Cullen’s resolve couldn’t withstand. And so it was that Cullen found himself slipping into the cool waters with his new husband at what was rapidly approaching 1:00 am. They splashed around for a bit, teasing and laughing and trying their damndest to dunk the other underwater. Something about being in a pool after midnight turned them giddy. Or maybe that had something to do with getting married.

Eventually though, Cullen sat on the wide steps that led down into the pool and pulled Dorian into him so his back was against Cullen’s chest and Cullen’s arms were wrapped around him. They were silent for a while, just content to be there together under the moon that had risen following such a perfect day. Scarred lips pressed light kisses to Dorian’s shoulder through the smile that hadn’t really left Cullen’s face all day. The moonlight glinted off their rings, and Cullen reached to join Dorian’s left hand with his own so he could see both of them, together. They’d had these rings for months, of course. There hadn’t been time to hunt for and purchase a new set, but… truth be told, Cullen didn’t mind that they were different. He didn’t mind that they didn’t match. It was better that way. He and Dorian were almost night and day, after all, but together… together they built each other up because of those differences.

No, these rings were perfect. And even if they weren’t new, what they meant now was. Where once those rings had been a promise made in a candlelit chantry, they were now a promise kept. A promise that Cullen would continue to keep, that Dorian would continue to keep. From now until the end of their days.

Funny, really, what something as simple as one man staying late at work and having to catch a later train than usual one day had started.

**Author's Note:**

> We couldn't leave our boys alone. There was just a little more story to tell - hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> As always, Dorian is written by Sallyamongpoison and Cullen is written by Mistysinkat. Come say hi on Tumblr: @sallyamongpoison and @mistysinkat


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